Back To Life
by Pokiepup
Summary: What if Bo and Lauren met under very different circumstances? My first attempt at completely AU, all human told in POV.
1. Slippery Slope

_**Slippery Slope**_

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_**9:24 a.m.-Unknown**_

Hi, I'm Lauren-Hello, I am Doctor Lewis-Hey, Doctor Lauren-Sup, Doctor L.—

I can't help but laugh at myself looking away from the rearview mirror, God I could be an idiot sometimes.

Why was this so hard anyway, what did it matter what I introduced myself as?

It isn't as if I plan to become friends with them, as soon as they hire an assistant he or she will be doing the leg work which would mean I would see these people maybe once a month, so why am I sitting in my car feeling like this is my first day of school?

I bet it was all the '_make a good first impression'_ talk Kenzi was spewing at me last night. Girl could care less what anyone thinks of her but me, I have to become Jo-Jo the Dancing Monkey—I bet this is because she wants a cop buddy to wipe out all of those tickets she has accumulated.

"Excuse me?"

I jump at the sound of the voice or is it the knock on my window—probably both.

I flash him a quick smile and a little wave as I look down to my cluttered passenger seat trying to find my badge. Pushing my over-the-shoulder bag out of the way and several folders.

"Ma'am this is an active crime scene, you need to move along."

"I know, I know." I mumble under my breath flashing another forced smile over my shoulder before pushing my bag down onto the floor to get a better view. "AH HA!" under the very last folder it was hiding. Turning around and opening my door to which he almost looks threatened, hand resting on his weapon, little jumpy here I see. "Tricky little bugger." Another smile as I slightly wave the badge while stepping out of the car.

"You're forensics?"

"Medical examiner," I know I make a face which I'm sure earns me no points with him but then again it says it **right next** to my picture. "Do you know what we have?"

"I'm a patrol officer ma'am, I tape off the area." He says through a scowl and clenched jaw—must have been one hell of a face I made.

_Note to self: Work on controlling expressions. _

I give a little nod to which he responds with one that means '_fuck you,'_—I know it quite well.

So far this first impression deal is going just great.

Rolling my eyes at myself I walk the twenty feet up the alley to where three detectives are standing over a body already covered by a sheet—hopefully someone took samples already otherwise they just contaminated my body.

I recognize the male, Dyson Thronwood—decently known name considering his major arrest of a serial child pornographer four or five years back. In his pictures he always came off cocky and as if he should be posing on a GQ cover rather than solving murders—apparently in person my impression remains correct.

The blonde female I think I know her-Tamsin something or other, I know her by reputation as well though it's the kind you don't want to have. Heard she pissed off the captain, disobeyed orders of some sort, not to mention if one is to believe gossip she gets around the office as well—not the best quality to have in a male driven profession.

Then there is the '_alpha'_ standing in between them, had to love cops and their macho b.s. She is as equally annoying as intriguing—true I never met her before today, cannot even remember her name off of my little sticky note but something about her just rubs me the wrong way.

Maybe it's the fact she is wearing heeled boots, leather pants, a TIGHT shirt that can only be compared to a vest and designer sunglasses, with her hair down obviously styled—her whole attitude screaming '_I am in charge'_, never cared much for that—especially since I highly doubt she can back up such an over-boasting attitude, hardly anyone can.

I get a little closer, within earshot—let's see what this one has.

"Alright so get some unis to search the garbage cans one block up and one block back just to be safe but there is a high probability it is in fact somewhere within this alley. Also send a couple extra cars out on the streets, the perp is most likely still near, probably tripping off of something which should make him relatively easy to find considering the asshole is most likely drenched in blood."

Had to give it to her, she was sexy running off orders and going down a checklist as though she is certain of it.

Let's see just how right she is.

I make my way to the body pulling the sheet down to his waist and then pull a pair of gloves from my jacket pocket.

"Excuse me, you would be a what?"

"I would be a doctor." I glance up at her.

"Well Doc, think you're a little late—he's already dead."

"Oh," I let out a sigh. "You're one of those."

"I'm sorry?" she chuckles a bit.

"One of those cops, the alpha, sarcastic, cocky and quip having ones." I look back down to the victim. "No insult intended, it's just that in my experience I've found there are a few select types of cops, I was just correct with my assumption of you."

"Right," she chuckles again, looking between her two-partners? "Again, who exactly are you?"

"I'm Doctor Lewis, the new medical examiner and substituting on scene technician until I can get myself a new assistant, as it turns out the last one was just as crooked and corrupt as his mentor."

"Well, welcome Doc, I am detective Dennis but you can call me Bo." She reaches out and I look from her to her hand and then back up.

"This department isn't big on following the proper procedures is it?" I raise a brow. "Must be one of the reasons your conviction rates have maintained a low seventy percent," I glance back up at her, feeling she doesn't quite grasp what I am saying to her. "Contamination of evidence."

"I don't mean to be rude here doctor, but this isn't exactly the handy work of Jack the Ripper, it's a simple junkie on junkie shooting."

"Is that so?" I look up and I know she takes this as a challenge as she gives me this icy smirk.

"Yeah, that's so."

"Well Detective Dennis," I bring myself to my feet. "You can send your uniformed officers scavenging the garbage cans in this alley and the other two but you will turn up empty handed because the suspect did not toss the weapon, or at least he didn't toss it so carelessly for the fact that he wasn't panicked after the shooting. You can also send them searching within the area which is actually a fifty-fifty shot considering it has not actually been that long since the crime was committed but you aren't looking for a junkie, or if you are he would be an anomaly considering how highly functioning he is in order to pull this off."

"Dude is shot twice with his pockets turned out, in this neighborhood that constitutes as robbery by junkie." She lets out through a clenched jaw—she isn't amused with me anymore.

"He was shot twice in the face, once from about ten or fifteen feet and then the other was done from maybe a foot away which tells me that even though the first shot killed him the suspect walked over, stood above him and shot again—I'm not cop but that screams personal to me. The guy you are looking for won't be drenched in blood either as you initially assumed, his right pant leg will have some though ankle to mid-calf to be exact."

"So you're one of those." She nods, icy smirk firmly in place as she glares—I can't see her eyes through the dark lenses but I know she is glaring.

"Someone who actually uses logic and reason while utilizing the English language to its full potential, yes I guess I am one of those."

"No, one of those expensive educations, think you're better than everyone, stick up their ass people. No insult intended, it's just that in **my** experience I've found there are a few select types spoiled, rich girls, and as it would turn out, **my** assumption of you was correct as well."

Damn, why did all of the hot ones have to be asses?

"Proceed how you would like detective, I was just trying to be of some assistance."

"Why don't you go be of assistance in the lab or morgue or wherever it is you came from."

"Not a problem." I smile, an odd pleasure I find myself getting at how worked up I've made her. "I'll stay out of your way but do me a favor, next crime scene you're at—try not contaminating my body."

"How about-"

"Whoa. Are we about to have another murder here cause I got a lunch date who will be highly disappointed if I need to cancel." I glance over at Hale who is grinning from ear to ear as he does his little half-jog toward us. "I see you met the good Doc." He smirks staring at Bo as his hand goes to my shoulder. "I'm sure you two will be the best of friends."

"Oh yeah, I expect we'll be braiding each other's hair by noon." She snorts in a chuckle, tongue darting out to lick her lips as she gives this little head shake.

She was sexy—hot-intriguing—interesting—bad news all the way around in the best way-it's just a shame we would have nothing to talk about considering she can't seem to form a basic theory.

"Stare any harder and those eyes are gonna pop right out your head." Hale whispers leaning into my shoulder as he notices my eyes have fallen to her hips as she storms off down the alley—sidekicks in toe.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." I clear my throat and begin pulling my gloves off, grin pulling at my lips.

"Mm-hm," he nods taking a step back and just looking at me for a moment, his features getting so serious that I expect him to ask me something about the case—until his trademark smirk begins to emerge. "MM-HM."

* * *

_**12:46 p.m.-Morgue **_

"That is freaking disgusting."

The sound of her voice while still unfamiliar to me is unique enough for me to place it none the less. Out of respect—and good manners I look over to her and nod, I would have forced a smile but between the mask and autopsy glasses it would have been pointless.

She walks up to the edge of the table right next to the victim's feet but continues to have this semi-disgusted look.

Isn't she a detective?

"Squeamish?"

"Not particularly."

"Then the problem would be?"

"You're holding a kidney," her eyebrow raises as if that was the stupidest question I could have ever asked her.

"It's a liver and yes that does tend to be what happens in autopsies. I have to inspect them and weigh them and—"

"Okay Morticia, wasn't asking for a list of turn-ons." I have to chuckle as I turn and place the liver into a container behind me.

"Why exactly are you here?"

"Don't care for the company?"

"In general or yours particularly?" I turn back around to face her, pulling my mask down below my chin. "Because there are two very different answers depending on which, the latter being a very definite no."

"Have I done something to offend you or are you just always this much of a-?"

"Bo?" we both look to the sound of Dyson's voice as he pushes through the double doors. "What are you doing here?"

Good question, Fuzzy.

"Came to um," she hesitates briefly to collect her thoughts before she flashes him a smile-interesting. Work issues? Personal issues? "Came to see if the good doctor was able to find anything else to back up this theory of hers."

"Oh alright,"

"Why are you here?"

"I have a Jane Doe on ice that I was gonna ask her to look over."

"Oh." She nods.

"In case anyone one cares, I'm here because I am working." I interject, the awkward silence filling the air starting to make me uncomfortable. She glances over at me, half smile tugging at the corner of her mouth—it's cute.

"Can I speak to you for a moment?" he asks and despite her hesitation she walks back over to the door where he has kept firm footed. He glances at me, this smile that I suppose is supposed to be charming before he sort of leans down and begins whispering-you know for detectives they aren't the smartest bunch, I can still hear them.

"Why are you avoiding me?" He asks-hm, I thought this was professional—guess it's personal.

"How can I avoid you, I live with you." YEP, definitely personal.

"You know what I'm talking about Bo."

"No, I don't."

"You were asleep when I got home last night and gone when I woke—"

"I had an earlier shift,"

"Bo—"

"Dyson, we are at work." She huffs and glances back me, and like the dumb-dumb I am I'm caught staring. Quickly I look back down at the body hands fidgeting with the sheet covering our John Doe—I don't think she bought my act but it makes me feel better. "We'll talk later." She doesn't bother trying to whisper this time before walking out.

"So Doc," he claps his hands together and gives me this wolf-grin—if I wasn't already batting for team Lady-Love I would most certainly be now. "I know you just got here but the last guy who held your position—"

"Was slacking on his work, I know I have five bodies in the fridge waiting to be autopsied while another two should have been sent out to a funeral home."

"Is that your way of saying I am out of luck with my request?" he keeps his smirk and is trying to flirt I think-I think that's what he is doing either that or his face is have a spastic-fit of some kind.

"Actually quite the opposite, that was supposed to tell you that despite the fact I have only been here for a little over three hours I already know exactly every issues and if I know every issue then it means I have a plan of attack." I pause pulling my mask back up. "I.E. both bodies are set to be picked up within the hour to be moved to their respective funeral homes. I've looked over all of the case folders for the remaining autopsies, you have two on ice, a John and Jane Doe—I will just preform hers first," another pauses as I begin removing the small intestine, though unlike his apparent girlfriend he doesn't flinch. "So in sum Detective Thornwood, you will have the results on your desk before I leave today."

"They said you were impressive but damn." He laughs, taking a step back—oh, maybe he finally gets it that I am not a fan of the flirting—or the smell of the small intestine is getting to him, either way I am not complaining. "Thank you."

"It's my job." I smile even though he can't see it.

"Oh and by the way, just Dyson." He halts his exit mid-way between me and the door.

"You all are quite informal here aren't you?"

"We like to have a close knit bond, a sort of trust and understanding—I hope you are the type who can fit into that."

Is that a threat?

He is still smirking and isn't doing anything provocative but there is something about the way his tone dropped, the way his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Given time I'm sure I will-Dyson."

"Then I don't foresee any problems in our future."

Creepy-furry-needy-overly assertive-I give it another six months before Detective Dennis is coming to pitching tryouts for team Lady-Love.

* * *

_**7:23 p. m.—Lexington Commons**_

"I'm returning your call." I say pushing the front door open with my foot, tossing my bag onto a pile of boxes to my left before searching for the light switch. "No I am here, I am just trying to navigate through a cluttered apartment—just got here remember."

_**(How did the first day go?)**_

"It went—let's just say it went." I finally find the light switch, small smile coming over my face.

_**(Meaning what?)**_

"Meaning it went, it was my first day. I am not sure what you are expecting to hear on my first day. I haven't even met everyone."

_**(Why?)**_

"Why?" I make a face instinctively as I maneuver through boxes to make it to the couch which is still wrapped in plastic. "Because I thought it might be a tad bit strange if I went up and down the halls collecting names and personal history."

_**(Did you at least meet—)**_

"Hold on," I say as I hear footsteps approaching. "Look, I have to go. I'll e-mail you tonight with a detailed account of my day okay?" I don't bother waiting for an answer before I press END.

"Finally you're home."

"I know, I ran my mouth a bit so I had to back it up. Turns out it was a bit trickier than I thought."

"Didn't I tell you to play nice with all the other kids?" she laughs bulldozing her way over to the couch taking a seat on the arm and staring down at me. "Did you make any friends?"

"Not particularly." I sigh.

"Did you get picked on?"

"Not particularly."

"Not particularly? Do I need to go down there and kick someone's ass because I totally will."

"I know you would," I laugh and roll my eyes at her. "It was just a first day is all, nothing overly exciting, just a murder."

"I like how you say nothing exciting, JUST a murder." She mimics my shrug.

"It was extremely simple, I solved it within seconds."

"YOU solved it?" she gets this huge smile as her eyes narrow. "Ah, so you went all Know-It-All with a side of Show-Off on them, you really didn't make any friends today."

"That isn't completely true; I seem to be getting along with a particular detective—sort of."

"Oh," she wiggles her eyebrows. "Do tell, is she hot?"

"It's actually a guy and he is-okay I guess. But I meant it as an actual-"

"The word you're looking for is friend or buddy or bud or pal or-"

"I got it, thank you." I scowl through a smile. "There was this one girl, detective but um, not much there—in more ways than one."

"How much do you need for a good tussle to bless the new bed?" I don't dignify that with an answer—just a scowl. "Come on get the hell up, I wanna go out."

"Where?"

"I don't know."

"So you want to wander around the streets aimlessly until we find something you like?"

"Sure, yeah—that'll work."

"I could name fifty different reasons why that is a horrible and dangerous idea."

"Do you have a safer and better one?" she slides off the arm of the couch and reaches out for me.

"There is this cop bar, The Dal—I guess we could go there."

"Don't you need to be a cop?"

"Well I know they let the D.A. in and if they let her in than it's pretty lack standards." I can't help but laugh as I take her hand and stand but instead of a laugh I get an unusual look. "It's a joke, law enforcement humor."

"Maybe we should be getting you out in to a regular bar if that is your idea of humor."

"I bet if I said it there they would all laugh."

"I bet they would too," she looks over her shoulder at me while pulling the door back open. "Cause they are drunk babes."

* * *

_**9:22 p.m.-The Dal**_

I run my fingertip around the rim of the glass of whiskey I have been babysitting for a while now, glancing across the floor to see Kenzi and Hale laughing it up as they attempt to throw darts although all I've seen them throw within the past hour is complements at one another.

Hale was a good detective but a better man, I've known him on and off through the past three years. He was the smooth, sexy, siren type of guy but he also had another side to him, the side that liked to take lectures and learn about the newest techniques—thus how we met.

He had only met Kenzi twice before, both times a '_Hi & Bye'_ type situation though it was like fireworks were going off every time-too bad she is ten years his junior.

Ah well, let them have their fun.

Not far from them Tamsin and Dyson are shooting pool and-flirting? Well this group really wasn't one for formalities OR boundaries. I know I should mind my own business but there was just something interesting about the whole situation—it was like a puzzle.

A puzzle calling my name.

What was the group dynamic? Did these two have a thing-are they having a thing? Does Detective Dennis know-does she care? Do they all have a thing? Where does Hale fit into it all?

So many questions…..

"You are an interesting read aren't you?"

I know a smile comes over my lips at the sound of her voice but I force it back before turning to face her. God—she is full of herself. She is leaning against the bar, eyes narrow and grin on lips as she is just mere inches from me.

"Meaning?"

"Are you always this combative?" she raises an eyebrow but continues to smirk.

"I'm not combative, you just aren't used to this." I drop my tone and lean forward a bit which makes her get this look of accomplishment.

"Used to what doctor?" she leans further, the furthest she can without actually crossing a boundary, and I can't help but to hesitate for a moment.

God, she is gorgeous.

"Used to someone you don't have an effect on."

"You're saying I don't have an effect on you?" she smiles, biting her bottom lip as those beautiful eyes of hers dance over my face.

"Yes," I was lying, she had AN effect on me—it just wasn't what she was used to. "Is that so unusual for you to hear?"

"Yes, actually it is."

"Well then I suggest you start getting used to it."

"You know," her tongue darts out wetting her lips as she stares at mine momentarily. "You're very sexy in an off putting way."

"Off putting?" this time I raise my brow and let out a soft chuckle-I know I am smiling but it's still nothing compared to what it could be given the situation.

"Yeah, off putting."

"Thank you?"

"It's a compliment—I think."

"You don't know if you're giving me a compliment?"

"No, I know I am giving you one." she leans in just a hair more and it takes a conscious effort not to pull back-or lean in. "I am just not sure if it's the most intriguing thing I have ever experienced—or the most infuriating."

"Indecisive I see."

"I can be."

"That isn't the best quality to have in a detective."

"Let's call it objectivity and **that is **the best quality to have."

"You tend to blow your own horn a lot don't you?"

"I think it's actually toot Doc,"

"You're correcting me, how-interesting."

"That's something else I can be."

"Well, I am notoriously known to be insatiably curious." My words trailing off as my eyes continue to shift between her lips and her eyes. I can't lie; I've slipped a bit further into her trap than intended. "What?" my smile widening as she lets out the cutest little laugh. "Like my use of the English language?"

"Geek speak," she bites her bottom lip again and I have to swallow at the wave of nervousness beginning to creep in as the tension in my lower stomach begins to worsen. "It's-incredibly adorable."

"I've gone from being sexy to adorable in a matter of minutes?" smile returning to a smirk, sense of composure coming back over me. "Someone doesn't take rejection well."

"Wasn't aware I was being rejected."

"What would you call this?"

"Enchanting?" she leans in a bit more but this time I pull back equally as much.

"You are quite the charmer aren't you?"

"I've been told."

"It's shame." My smirk fading a bit and hers follows, not quite understanding the sudden mood change.

"What?"

"Can I ask you a question?" I finally tear my eyes away from hers and look down at my drink.

"Sure, ask two if you like—but the third one, I do charge for." She chuckles as just watches me, her stare is so-intense.

"Do I seem like the type of person who has random one night stands?" I glance over at her who looks taken back.

"No, you don't strike me as the type."

"Then why," this time when I glance at her I hold her gaze—it's different this time though. "Would you think I would be the type to play adulteress?"

"Excuse me?"

"You and Fuzzy don't whisper as quietly as you think you do." As the words leave my lips I see all of the intrigue, all of the joy and playfulness drain from her features. "I'm not judging, but I don't like to play games and I don't play the role of anyone's second choice." I down the little liquid in my glass before sliding off of my seat as she stands up straight. "No matter how attracted I may be or how—enchanting I may find them to be."

My eyes dancing over her pristine features once more before giving her a little smile as I walk passed, making sure the outside of my hand grazes hers.

This is a very a slippery slope to a dangerous game I am contemplating playing.

"Doc," I pause, biting my bottom lip to keep from smiling again—I always hated when people called me that, made me feel like a Looney Ton or that basketball coach—but there was something about the way she said it that made me smile.

"Hm?" I turn back around, brow lifting a bit.

"I meant to tell you, the case this morning—the killer was the guy's lover, turns out he was cheating on him." Her stern features turning into another smirk. "You were right."

"Oh, I know." I flash another smile before glancing over at Kenzi who is safe and sound with Hale. "Goodnight Detective Dennis."

"It's Bo."

"Mm-hm." A tiny chuckle as I turn to head for the door.

Well like they say, danger is always a hazard of curiosity.


	2. The Difference A Day Can Bring

_**Chapter 2: The Difference A Day Can Bring**_

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_**2 MONTHS LATER**_

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_**Wednesday**_

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_**College de Montreal-8:02 p.m.**_

"Despite many of those memorable things the one thing that this killer would remember most about this kill was," I hesitate catching a glimpse of Bo standing off to the side of the last row of seats to my left.

Why was she here-better yet how did she know I was here?

"The thing he would remember most about this kill was the fact that she didn't scream. Never once through the entire duration of the brutal act did she scream for help or mercy or even out in pain."

"Was there something wrong with her?" a boy from the fifth row tosses out.

"Well," I hit the little button on my clicker as the picture behind me goes from a picture of a chart to a rather grotesque crime scene photo which ears various sounds from the crowd of a hundred and fifty—well a hundred and fifty-one now due to my little impromptu guest. "It would seem like quite a bit is wrong with her, wouldn't you agree?" I glance over my shoulder at the picture and then back to the crowd which I can hardly see passed the fourth row due to the lighting choice of the university. "Perhaps if you are planning to have an actual career in this field you should learn to better articulate your questions." I glance over at Bo who is just standing there—staring at me. Something is wrong. "Detective Dennis, care to educate us on what the proper question would have been?"

"Did the victim have any biological defects that would contribute to her lack of auditory self-defense?"

"The answer would be no, the victim was found to be in perfect health—prior to this incident of course which is therefore why Cater Cane holds a particularly soft spot for this kill. On his last in depth interview he said his greatest regret in life was not being caught nor committing the acts themselves but that he did not keep this particular victim alive longer than his twenty-four hour time table." I clear my throat, hitting the clicker three times to turn the screen off as the lights come back on. "Critical thinking for next week."

I look around the stage making sure I have left nothing even though I am fully aware I brought nothing with me. Habit I guess, can never be too careful. I force a soft smile as I make it down the six stairs to meet her.

In the two months since meeting her we haven't had many interactions, four to be technical including my first day.

"Detective Dennis, of what do I owe the pleasure?"

"There's a case." She says flatly already walking toward the exit, basically a silent '_follow me'_, she was never one for words.

"You do know that I am not on call right?"

"You don't have a choice in this matter." She pulls the door open for me, she is unusually cold and professional—it's alarming in a way. "Was there a terrorist attack I missed?"

"No."

"Then I am not quite sure why I am being called in after hours when my assistant is more than capable of handling whatever this is, at least until morning."

"Not when a Fed shows up and takes over," she pauses, once again pushing the main entrance glass door open for me.

"Fed?" I raise a brow, it's not that I am out of shape but I was having a tad bit of trouble keeping up with her speed walk toward the parking lot.

"Doctor," she says sort of harshly grabbing my attention. "You're coming with me."

"You know Detective, I almost feel as if I am the one being arrested." She says nothing as she gets into her car which happens to be illegally parked on the sidewalk.

I can take a hint, she doesn't want to talk oddly enough.

I get into the car and no sooner than the sound of my seatbelt clicking are we speeding away, the siren light flashing but no siren. I don't blame her that damn thing annoys me too and honestly if they are calling me in then the rush is—not as urgent.

For a little over a mile I remain silent, looking out at the buildings I was not fully familiar with—watching what few people who were still out wondering why they were in a cold this brutal, sure I wasn't wearing a jacket but I was only supposed to be going from my car to the college and vice versa.

"So, how are you and Dyson doing?" I was never one for small talk, I didn't excel at it—don't have the skillset but the silence mixing with the constant flashing lights was beginning to wear on my patience. "I heard you two aren't living together anymore but are still," I chuckle suddenly nervous on the subject. "Still continuing a physical relationship?"

"Something like that."

"Okay." I nod looking from her to the street. "I'm a little surprised, not that you two aren't together anymore I sort of called that but that you haven't I don't know—made a move, is that the correct term now a days?" another nervous chuckle coming through a smile that fades as she remains stern and cold. "Not that I am coincided or expecting you two it is just that you were quite flirtatious the times I've seen you when you were with him and though I made it clear I would not play the role of mistress I thought I kind of left door open for—further flirtation if I was not being placed into that role."

"You did." Yet another short response which I simply nod at, a wave of embarrassment washing over me.

"I know we tend to butt heads which usually ends with flirting of some kind, I just mean to say that I know I have a tendency to piss you off but I haven't seen you in over three weeks so this attitude you seem to have with me at the moment is rather uncalled for."

She clenches her jaw keeping her eyes on the road for a solid twenty seconds before glancing over at me, jaw still firmly clenched but there is a softness to her features—I don't recognize this.

"I've never had to do this before."

"Play chauffeur?"

"No, see a child's body."

"Wh-what?" I turn and stare at her though she is refusing to even glance my way. "It's a child?" well don't I feel like shit. I look down at my lap, embarrassment growing. "So, in all of your time on the force you've never come across even one?"

"N-no."

"Not even as a patrol officer?"

"No."

"Hm."

"What?"

"Nothing, I just find it unusual that in all your time on the force you've never even come across one."

"Yeah well I haven't, alright?" she glances over at me scowling, pervious chill returning to her tone.

"You know it's okay," I say softly after another two blocks of silence. "I'm not a specialist in the matter but I have come across my share and-it never gets any easier, the first is the worse and around the third you begin to build a tolerance, it's not until about the tenth of fifteenth that you get that horribly sick feeling like the first." I look over at her, voice softening. "At least it was like that for me, I know some cops are able to keep their tolerance."

"Yeah, well you aren't really an expert on this are you?" she turns, scowl intact. "You aren't a cop."

"N—no, I'm not."

I fall silent, looking back out of my window the rest of the ride—that was the problem with most cops, they developed this US V.S. THEM attitude, problem was that sometimes they tossed the wrong people into the THEM category.

I had some experience with this, more than I would have liked so I could have been of some help but she doesn't want to admit that beyond having this sick, disgusting feeling in the pit of her stomach she was scared.

It's not long until we pull up to the tapped off area, several squad cars and unmarked cars all with their lights flashing illuminating an otherwise desolate street of a seemingly abandoned neighborhood.

I get out before her and walk up the street, I know the look that all of these patrol officers have. Tamsin is the first person I know that I spot, she is standing off to the side looking toward the buildings, hands on her hips. Hale is next who is off to my right just shaking his head, Dyson with his back to me as he just stares down.

"Where is the agent?" I ask causing Dyson to turn around.

"Back at the station waiting for us, your techs are here but the Fed was specific not to allow the body to be moved until you gave you're okay."

"How sweet," I mumble under my breath as I rest my hand on Dyson's arm while finally looking at the young victim. Taking a deep breath I crouch down but am very careful not to touch him. "Preliminary assumption would be a seven to nine year old male, drowning as C.O.D. Sexual aspect cannot be ruled out due to the fact his shirt, socks and shoes are missing. I see no other wounds though due to discoloration of the skin I cannot rule that out either until we get back to—the station." I take Hale's offered hand as I stand, glancing over at Bo who is three shades paler than normal. "Have the techs come and move him now."

"We have a possible witness in the back of my car, but he's-" Hale doesn't have time to finish before Bo is storming over to him.

I know what's about to happen, it's never good.

"I've got it." I give them a little nod before walking after her, I'm a bit behind as she has already dismissed the patrol officer who was with him and has threw the witness' cup of something on the ground.

"What did you see?"

"Detective."

"Hey, fuck head." She slams her hand on the top of the car, making the already nervous and jumpy addict begin to panic. "You do this? Is this your work?"

"Detective." I repeat.

"This how you get your kicks huh?" another slam on the roof.

"Bo." My voice hardening, hand on her lower back finally grabbing her attention. "You aren't going to get anything this way." She glares at me and I don't think I've even seen her this pissed at me but none the less she backs up a bit allowing me to crouch in front of this lanky, dirty, trembling excuse for a man. "Are you okay?" he nods. "Good, now I know you're high on something I don't care what but I also know you are still coherent enough to understand what's happening, am I correct?"

"Y—yeah."

"Good, I want you to listen to me very carefully, you see all of these cops around here—every single one of them are pissed right now and they would like nothing more than to find someone to blame for this, now you are a good suspect for several reasons—I don't need to explain them do I?"

"N—no."

"Then tell me what you saw otherwise you're going to be talking to a bunch of very angry cops rather than me."

"Nothing—I swear I saw nothing . I woke up and the dude was on the—" he's cut off by Bo's hand hitting the roof again, something which even makes me jump a bit.

"Dude? That's a child asshole."

"Bo," I glare up at her shaking my head. "What were you saying?"

"I woke up and he was there-next thing I know man people—people were everywhere and grabbing me and-I don't know."

"Okay." I stand up pushing the door shut.

"Okay? That's it?"

"Do I look like an interrogator to you?" I raise an eyebrow. "A lesson you would do well to learn is that you can go from nice to shitty but you can't go from shitty to nice. This guy, is he an addict with a rap sheet of his own? Most likely but do I think that he managed to abduct, drown and move his body here before getting rid of the car and then coming back to pass out for a power nap? No, I don't think so."

"I'm sorry but you are a medical examiner right, cause it really seems like you're a cop all of a sudden."

"Be pissed, be angry, be upset—be any and all but don't take it out on me." I say it as kindly as I can, trying control my irritation level as I walk back over to her car, my night was apparently far from over and this temper tantrum of hers I am not prepared to deal with.

I sit in the car just watching the events play out, I watch her more accurately. Sure I should have been watching my employees carry out their job making sure everything is done correctly but I have little doubt it won't be. I could watch Tamsin who I have a particular distaste for, someone who has been on the force for over eight years yet is still rattled at the sites of the more gruesome cases. I could watch Dyson with his overall lack of emotion on the whole subject, not to say he doesn't care—not even my personal feelings about him would cause me to make a judgment so harsh. I could even watch Hale who is perhaps a mixture of the two, a certain numbness to it while still having a sense of disgust for it all.

But I only watch her.

I loved things I couldn't solve or at least took me a while to solve, enigmas, mysteries, questions, riddles, puzzles and she was definitely that.

I have no doubt that if I hadn't kept my distance then some of my values would have been bent when it came to situations pertaining to her—I felt it the first day we met especially that same night at The Dal.

She is standing off to the side talking to Dyson but stops to watch the sheet covered gurney being shuffled into the back of an ambulance.

In all honesty and though I would never tell her I don't think this is the right line of work for her. She is far too emotional and while she isn't stupid she just does not apply common sense to most situations. How she ends up as lead detective on almost every case is a question mark to me.

Emotion can be good, I've known many cops who kept an emotional attachment to certain cases while still being able to remain objective—she lacks this ability and for some reason the rest of them don't seem to help her with that.

Perhaps that is why we butt heads; I remind her that there is a way to approach things that isn't fully emotional.

I'm sure she thinks I am cold, that I don't care because I am able to speak calmly to a suspect but it's not that at all, I wish she could see that.

I wish I knew why I cared so much about what she thinks of me.

It's not long after the ambulance drives away that she returns to the car, switches the lights off and drives us to the station all without ever speaking a single word to me, a fifteen minute drive without so much as a peep.

I didn't think she could physically do it.

The walk inside the station despite being night and nearly empty is a cold one, every officer seemingly looking at us—word spreads fast.

The elevator ride to the third floor just as silent and cold as the drive here but it doesn't bother me quite as much, perhaps because I know in a matter of seconds I won't be confined in a small space with her—though I will be in her domain which might cause a problem.

Doors slowly part and she allows me out first, she isn't one for manners but this isn't about manners it's about chivalry another aspect of her that peaks my interest.

Despite being nearly ten o'clock this floor is quite packed, well she did mention a team being assembled.

"This is Agent," she says softly as we walk back down toward the second to last desk before the Captain's office. Designer suit and haircut, though I can't see his face as he leans against the corner of a desk reading some file. "Agent um," she pauses trying to remember his name. "Lachlan, yeah that's it." She finally remembers just as we reach him, his attention shooting to us at the sound of his own name.

"Lauren," my name rolls off of his tongue through a crooked smile, Bo looking between the two of us.

"You two know each other?"

"No." I say flatly, shaking my head as I glance over at her but he says '_Yes'_ the exact same time as I speak.

"Well, it is always easier to remember a beautiful face." Crooked smile growing as he extends his hand and I quickly shake it. "We met at the joint conference between the CSIS and CIA a year back."

"Why were you at a national intelligence conference?" she asks, brow furrowed though her inquisitiveness has brought about a certain softness to her features.

"It was at the university."

"I don't remember that happening."

"Well by definition the CSIS and CIA don't exactly flaunt their whereabouts, we're sneaky that way." He chuckles, eyes shifting from mine to her and then back.

"Creepy too." She whispers under her breath to me, shoulder leaning into mine as she takes his distraction at Captain Evony Morgan peeking out of her office.

"I want you all to look around this room because this has just become your home until this is solved, these people standing with you have been specifically chosen by Agent Lachlan, please do give your full cooperation."

"Evony handing over control?" Bo glances over at me eyebrow raised.

"Well you don't really argue with CSIS."

"Why exactly is CSIS in on this?" Tamsin asks the question undoubtedly on everyone's mind.

"Classified."

"CSIS doesn't investigate routine murders." Dyson the next to pipe in.

"This is the third in a string of murders as I would be pleased to inform you in if there is no further interruptions."

Dyson just sits atop of his desk, feet on the chair as he holds his hands out—a gesture which I suppose means to continue. I glance back over at Bo who still has her inquisitive look on as she continues to catch Agent Lachlan stealing a glance or two at me.

Still territorial despite the fact she doesn't want to speak to me-confusing girl.

"Exactly why CSIS is interested in this is classified just understand we are and we are leading this investigation, the eight of you here were all carefully picked for this team but make no mistake I can replace any of you," he glances over at me. "Almost any of you."

"You must have made some impression." She whispers to me, once again leaning against my shoulder.

"In Laval the bodies of Clayton Paul and Alexander Thomas were found last week, Paul on a Wednesday and Thomas on a Sunday. Both were seven year old, white males who were taken from their respective homes in the middle of the night, both without the parents ever knowing until it was too late. Both found in the same manner and fashion as the victim tonight. We believe this is the work of a serial killer and will strike again on Sunday if the pattern holds true."

"If this happened in Laval then how did you know he'd strike here?" Hale asks coming up behind me, his presence causing Bo to subtly take a step away from me.

"The second victim was found on the borderline between the cities six miles from where the first was found, logical assumption was that he would move within Montreal next."

"So what we have until Sunday and then you move onto the next city or?" Bo asks looking around the room of restless detectives, not a single one enjoying Lachlan's presence.

"Montreal is approximately a hundred and sixty-six miles, if he is killing moving south at a distance of six miles each kill—I most certainly hope you can catch him before he makes another—"

"Twenty-seven and a half kills?" my left brow going up, a weird sense of irritation coming at how he was talking to her. "Although I am not exactly sure what a half of kill would be."

"Perhaps that would be the one this station finally finds alive."

"I assure you, they are more than capable of catching him before it reaches that Agent."

"We'll see." His cocky smile wavering, tearing his eyes from mine he looks back over the office of highly curious officers. I spoke out of turn and I know this will have consequences. "Understand I am merely this circus' ring master, Evony will continue to have lead and Bo here will oddly enough remain point detective. Any problem with that?" he speaks looking over the room but somehow ends up returning his gaze back to me.

"For what it's worth," Hale pauses, hand on my right shoulder as her whispers into my left ear. "I think you could take him."

* * *

.

_**Thursday**_

.

_**City Morgue-3:27 a.m.**_

"Hey Doc," I continue to pull my mask off as I look at the gentle voice. "Permission to enter?" she asks softly, this little smile with the most adorable puppy eyes I've seen as she leans in half way from the door.

"I don't know," beginning to remove my gloves. "Do you plan on retracting the claws?"

"All retracted." Smile growing as she walks in stopping just a few feet shy of the bottom of my autopsy table. The smile she had been sporting quickly fading, color draining from her cheeks. "H—how do you do it? How can you be so—"

"Cold?"

"I didn't mean it that way." Her voice but a whisper as she looks up at me.

"You really want to know how _**I**_ do it?" I ask just as softly as her, pulling off my scrub cap before moving around the table to meet her. "Then for the next—two minutes trust me." Her dark eyes dancing over my face, full of uncertainty.

"O—okay."

"Okay." I repeat with a soft smile before I place my hands on her shoulders and guide her up toward the middle of the table, my chest lightly resting against her back, hands gripping her shoulders gently keeping her from successfully turning away.

Her eyes glassing over while she looks around the entire room but refuses to look down as her jaw trembles ever so slightly.

"Look at him Bo," she doesn't at first but after a few seconds she is finally able to bring her eyes to his face.

I move just a bit so I am only leaning against the right half of her back, my left hand dropping to her side as my right moves down her jacket covered arm till reaching her lightly shaking hand.

"Trust me." I whisper as I move her reluctant hand to his, she tries to jerk away but I hold her hand atop of his, my eyes moving from our hands to her face—features scrunching slightly as she tries to keep the tears from falling. "Look at his face," her lips part, I'm sure to protest but she does as I tell her. "Now repeat after me-Hello Arron, I'm Detective Dennis."

She tilts her head, eyes meeting mine and despite how close our faces are-how close our lips are it's not sexual. The tears in her eyes so pronounced I'm sure I'm blurred to her but she is searching for something—I'm not sure what.

She lets out this heavy breath before a sniffle as she looks down at him.

"H—hello A—Arron, I'm Detective Dennis."

"I am sorry for what's happened to you,"

"I'm s—so sorry for what's happened to you."

"But I promise no matter what that I will find who did this to you."

"La—"

"Say it." I whisper, her hand tightening around his as I see a tear slip down her cheek.

"I promise you, I will find who did this—no matter what." Her words breaking as she whispers this but I've never heard more conviction in her voice than this moment.

"That is how **I **handle cases like this." She doesn't move for a moment, her hand clenching his as she just stares at him—and I stare at her.

"We—we're taught not to make promises."

"I know, so are doctors but this one—I know it's one that we're going to keep." She turns around within my embrace and I know I should move back but I find myself holding still.

"I don't make promises, mostly because I know I can't keep them."

"I know you will keep this one." My heart aching for her, the pain not only written over her face but in her eyes, eyes that were peering into mine—still desperately searching for something.

"W-why?"

"Because," I swallow back the lump in my throat, there are a million and one reasons I could say, a hundred that I could actually mean but I hesitate. Eyes leaving hers and going to our hands that I've suddenly realized are still embraced. "Because," another heavy whisper, eyes moving back up to meet hers. "I promise you that I'll make sure you do."

"We're in this together huh?" she smiles softly—heartbreakingly.

"Yeah," a gentle smile of my own. "We're in this together."

"Careful Doc, you could make a girl fall in love with you making promises like this."

"I'm sure it would take more than this." I whisper eyes moving over her face, her beautifully heartbreaking features.

"Not to someone whose never heard them—not to someone who doesn't know what that's like."

"Well then, I'll um—be sure to be careful."

"Yeah," she smiles softly, a sense of composer coming over her as our hands drift apart. "You be sure to do that doctor." She takes a step back as I do the same.

"Safe as houses." I smile and watch her back away for three steps before finally turning around and walking to the door, stopping just as her hand falls onto it.

"Did you need a ride home?" she looks over her shoulder. "I know your car is at the university."

"No, thank you though. Hale is taking me home, his night to stay over."

"It's morning."

"Well, time doesn't really apply when you're in love-or so I'm told."

"You've never been in love?" she asks, this unusual little smile, one that is a mixture of glee and disappointment.

"Goodnight Detective."

* * *

_**Lexington Commons-9:13 a.m.**_

"Detective, come to kidnap me again?" I ask through a grin as I walk out of my building to find her leaning against her unmarked car, smirk firmly on her lips.

"What can I say, I like the company."

"Hm," a slight chuckle as I walk up the sidewalk to meet her. "Hale is supposed to take me in."

"Hale, hm? Does Kenzi know about this attachment you have to her boyfriend?"

"It's nothing like that."

"Nothing like that huh?" she turns around pulling the door open for me. "Don't like the male population?"

"I love the male population," I turn to her, smirk growing as I see the slightly confused look she gets. "I just prefer they stay out of my bedroom." I don't watch for her reaction as I get in but I hear her chuckle.

"So," she lets out after she gets herself positioned in her seat. She puts her sunglasses on and gets a piece of gum all before gesturing toward the cup holders where there is two cups of coffee which I assume is her way of letting me know one of them is mine.

"So." I repeat with a sheepish smile as I take my coffee.

"I didn't know what you liked so I guessed."

"It's fine thank you."

"That junkie turned up clean, well he has warrants but I mean for this case he's cleared."

"I figured as such."

"No need to gloat Doc," she glances over at me as she grabs her coffee cup—this isn't the safest driving I've seen. "So how did you learn to do that, I mean I've seen people be nice with little shits like him and get nothing but you were like the junkie-whisperer."

"Oh um," I pause taking a sip and looking over at her debating what I want to say. "I um—"

"I've never seen you have this much trouble with words before."

"Yeah it's just that I am trying to decide if I want to do that bonding thing."

"That bonding thing?"

"Yes, you know where I share something personal and then you reciprocate in which there is a certain level of trust and such built between us."

"Oh, THAT bonding thing." She laughs glancing over at me as we make a turn-I really wish she would watch the road more.

"Never mind." I roll my eyes taking another drink trying not to smile.

"No, no come on I want to do this bonding thing."

"You can be a real ass."

"I know, personality flaw."

"I um, have professional experience of course so that helps but I also have some personal experience."

"You?" she looks over at me, luckily this time we are at a stoplight.

"Not me, but," I take a deep breath debating this. "Kenzi she had some problems a while back with heroine."

"Kenzi?" she looks over at me in shock.

"Yeah, it was only for a bit when she was much younger but—it really gave me a good insight."

"I can't believe Kenzi, I mean I've hung out with her at least three times a week for two months and I never even expected."

"Well she has been clean for a long time now, one of those things that are better left in the past—we all have those type of mistakes."

"I been meaning to ask her but how exactly do you two know one another? I mean I'm not judging I love her but she is pretty young."

"This bonding thing is limited to one confession, sorry." I smirk from behind the rim of my cup—we aren't at this level of sharing yet—if ever.

"Fair enough." She leans back into her seat, silence coming over us as her smile slowly fades. "Alright, this is common knowledge and I'm sure you've heard around but you'll be the first person I actually say this—admit this to. You mentioned last night how it was odd that in all my time as a cop I've never see a—child's body and it's-I've only been a cop for three and a half years."

"Really?"

"I was a beat cop for six months and then got bumped up."

"Must have been impressive work."

"Not really, I had the luck of assisting Dyson on the child pornography case so I got written up well for that. And my grandfather Trick, he owns The Dal, I don't think you've met him yet."

"Not yet."

"Well he is pretty big with the older cops, the brass now so there were some favors and strings pulled. It was always written in stone I would be bumped up and the case gave them the excuse. I mean they were willing to do it right when I got out of academy but Trick wanted me to learn a lesson so I had to wait a bit."

"Well, must be nice." I say flatly looking at the uniformed officer who waves us into the parking lot.

"Not really."

Silence once again finds us and it's not exactly comfortable but it's not awkward either.

I let out a yawn as we make it into the elevator, after all I was just here a couple hours ago—reminds me, I forgot to ask her if she went home at all.

"Finally decided to join the party?" Hale wiggles his eyebrows as he walks by, nodding his head toward Evony's office. "Briefing by Agent Dick-Head, T minus thirty seconds."

"Soooo excited." She's smirking at me and making a face of some kind, I don't think she realizes how much her sunglasses obscure her expressions.

"Play nice, he can take your badge if he wants."

"I'm not worried."

"You should be." I whisper to myself as she manages to get a few steps ahead of me.

I was in no particular rush to be stuck in a small room full of them while they all tried to have a pissing contest. I don't have enough sleep nor enough coffee but oh well, pity party of one will have to wait.

"How nice of you to make an appearance." I look up to him but realize he is speaking Bo not myself.

"Well unless you didn't want the medical examiner here I wouldn't say too much on my thirty seconds of lateness." She barks—something about the way she does it tells me it's for my benefit. She recognizes I've seen her weak more than once now, she needs to make sure I don't think she is.

"Moving on, thanks to Lauren we have an identification for the victim last night. His name is one," he looks down at the folder, a slight irritation gnawing at me that he can't seem to remember the name despite the fact he has read that report no less than five times by now. "Arron Samuel, a nine year old male who went missing from his bedroom last night around five thirty in the evening, I say around because the mother sent him to his room at approximately three and decided that it was okay she didn't hear anything from him for a few hours. His body was found at seven thirty, T.O.D as recorded here says—"

"Approximately seven o'clock." I cut in, the entire room's attention coming to me, unlike when he spoke. I was by far no one's favorite person but by their standards I was more one of them rather than him and this simple fact earned me the basic respect of looking and listening when I spoke. "Secondary findings were that both of his shoulders were dislocated meaning he put up as good of a fight against a grown man as anyone would ever dream a boy his age could do."

"Does that mean maybe he got DNA or something?" Tamsin asks leaning out from behind Dyson.

"Unfortunately no, but apart from bringing a sense of comfort and pride to his parents—which it will, it also tells us what kind of a monster we are dealing with."

"How so?"

"Have you ever had your shoulder dislocated?" Bo asks looking to the blonde. "It makes a disturbing sound, let alone two. I was looking over the reports of the other two boys and there was no indication of struggle so it was thought perhaps the suspect used something to subdue them. A—mercy type of killing, as awful as it sounds it's a lot easier to go through with it if they are knocked out, not struggling or even moving."

"Detective Dennis is correct," I smile gently—she did have potential—when she applied herself. "It is safe to assume the other two boys were just docile and didn't fight back, what all this means is that this unsub has no remorse, no guilt or hesitation. His hunger will only grow, the only way to stop him would be to—"

"Put a bullet in his head—cause that's what I'm aiming to do." Dyson chuckles coldly as the room follows in their own variation other than me and Lachlan.

"Perhaps you shouldn't be on this case." Lachlan says flatly putting an end to the chuckles.

"Relax, just a bit of crass cop humor." Evony says, this must be killing her allowing someone else to take over and run her department. She wasn't the type to relinquish control easily.

"I believe you've all been briefed well enough, meet me outside to hand out your assignments." Lachlan orders before leading everyone out of the office, there were another eight or ten detectives working other cases so it wasn't unusual that he wanted quiet when having a briefing but I think it's more about making sure people understand he is running the show.

"I'll be right there." I let out to Hale who looks back at me, the vibrating in my jeans pocket grabbing ahold of my attention.

"Kenz?" I let out closing Evony's door, she is so busy being pissed at Lachlan and glaring at him I doubt she'll even know I'm using her office.

_**(Yeah, what are you doing?)**_

"I'm working."

_**(Do you know if you'll be home for lunch?)**_

"It's like ten in the morning."

_**(I'm still growing, I need nourishment.)**_

"You stopped growing two years ago." I say peeking out of the window into the main office seeing them scurry about except for Bo who is sitting on Dyson's desk smiling as he stands next to her laughing about something or other.

_**(Did you even hear me?)**_

"Yeah, I did."

_**(What did I say?)**_

"That you are a bottomless black hole who eats up all of the food, and if I ever got rich I need to buy you your own supermarket."

_**(Har-Har funny Lauren but-)**_

Her voice drowns out a bit as I shift two steps to the right to get a better view of them, I am aware this could constitute as stalking but—oh well.

She is smiling, hand resting on his arm—I know body language that is a clear '_GO_' sign and not in the '_go away'_ way.

Well it was no secret they were still friends with benefits she even angrily admitted it yesterday so it's not really a surprise to see them flirting, besides he knows her well—I'm sure he brings some comfort to her after the events of the past twenty four hours.

_**(Earth to Lauren Lewis!)**_

"Yeah, Kenz I am here."

_**(Shit, what are you doing over there getting head or what?)**_

"Working, what you should be doing."

**(Mind your business asshole.)**

"You are my business asshole."

_**(Then fucking act like it)**_

"Kenz," I huff as I pause and steal one last glance at the flirty pair before tearing my eyes away. "You're being a real pain in the ass right now."

_**(What else are little sisters for?-Look I need you to make the time to meet me for lunch I really need you to help me with this.)**_

"Yeah, one-thirty at Benally's."

_**(Thank you, love you.)**_

"Love you too, oh and dress according please." Sighing I stuff my phone back in my pocket and walk out, a slight irritation settling in at-the flirty pair.

I know I have no right but—oh well.

"Doc, let's go." Bo says jumping off the desk. "We pulled the short straw of checking out a suspect."

"We?"

"Mm-hm, I need you to let me know if the guy fits the criteria, you say he does it's enough for to bring him in for questioning."

"Wonderful."

* * *

_**Saint Anthony's Church—10:36 a.m.**_

"Do you need to do that?" I ask noticing how she pops the strap open on her holster as she begins walking around the car.

"You never know."

"You really think that the priest is who we're looking for?"

"Haven't you read the news anytime within the past decade?"

"I have, but I am also not one of those people who think priest are lurking around every corner just waiting to jump out at children."

"Oh, I'm not either." She gets this smirk. "Just the Catholic ones." A slight chuckle as she nods for us to go in.

I say nothing just follow her in, she holds the first door and then the second.

I didn't intend to but before I even realize I am doing it I've already made the sign of the cross. I mentally kick myself even more so when I glance over at her and she is looking at me with this distasteful look.

"Muscle memory, can't wipe away some things—no matter how hard you try." I force a smile and push passed her not caring to hear her comments on the subject. "Excuse me father," I say grabbing his attention near the alter knowing Bo was obviously not going to be as civil. "We're with the police do you mind helping us for a second?"

"Or I could throw your ass in jail for obstruction of justice."

"You have to excuse her, she has a daily quota for manners and she has reached her limit already apparently."

"Oh, I thought she was just a Protestant." He says with a straight face before letting out a hearty laugh. "I am sixty-seven years old; it's a bit of old Irish humor, don't mind me."

"Ha, I thought your kind stuck to kiddy jokes—made it easier to chummy up with the prospective victims."

"Jesus Bo,"

"I think I'd like a little more good cop than bad cop." He says through a tightened jaw.

"He is not by any means who we are looking for." I whisper into her ear as I lean over. "Father, you aren't James Collins are you?"

"No, I can't say I am. What is this about?" he repositions his stance, given the fact he is about fifty to sixty pounds overweight I would say he is feeling great discomfort from being on his feet in the particular shoes he is wearing.

"Answer the question."

"He is my," he stops at the sound of the sacristy door opening, a man in his mid-twenties emerging.

It's as if the whole world pauses. I see the look in his eyes as he realizes we're law enforcement, the color in his face draining. I see the confusion turn into a sad realization on the Father's face. I can feel Bo starting to move.

"James stop!" she yells but he is already running for the side entrance Bo bolting after him.

"Shit." I mumble. "Do you have phone?"

"Ye-yes."

"Call the police tell them officer needs assistance." I hardly finish before I am running after them—or rather her.

I make it out onto the street, people in both directions looking around confused.

Left—right-left-right-my decision made as I hear three gunshots.

Running to my left down into an alley, I see James running down the alley and Bo lying on the ground motionless.

"Bo?! Bo?!" I let out dropping to my knees, pulling her shirt up thankfully finding a vest. "Bo," I let out again a little less panicked.

"I'm alright-I can't breathe though." Her eyes open to half mass as she tries to catch her breath.

"Did they go through?"

"N—no." she closes her eyes and shakes her head. "I'm fucked."

"What?"

"He took my gun, he took my fucking gun." She takes a deep breath, my eyes shooting up to the end of the alley where I just came from as Dyson's car is pulling up. "I'm in so much trouble."

"Come on." I say helping her sit up. "Stay here, and try to breathe." I use her shoulder for leverage as I stand.

"What happened? Is she alright?" he asks coming around the hood of the car toward me, Tamsin starting to get out of the passenger side.

"Tell her to get back in." I say.

"Fuck you."

"Dyson." It must be my look or my tone but he tells her to and though she hates it she stays in the car. "We don't have a lot of time so just listen, I know you're one of those US V.S THEM, do anything for a blue-brother type of guys—especially when the blue-brother is a sister and you're having a relationship with her." I pause making sure he is paying attention. "He took her gun, if Agent Lachlan finds out he will take her badge."

"What do you need?" he looks to her and then me.

"Have you fired your side arm recently?"

"Yeah, this morning blowing off some steam in the range."

"You have a backup?"

"Of course."

"Give me." He looks at me unsure, cops don't give up their guns—but he does. I pop the clip out, pushing out three rounds and handing them back to him before pushing the clip back in. We can hear the sirens now—not much time. "Don't say anything, go find this guy before anyone else does." I don't say anything else before walking back over to Bo who is beginning to stand.

"What the hell?" she barks as I shove the gun into her holster. I begin pulling off her jacket quickly before taking off my own.

"Put this on and don't argue."

"Lauren—what are you doing?"

"Put it on." This time I bark as she follows my order. "You fired the shots, understand?"

"Lauren,"

"You fired the shots," I repeat my eyes meeting hers. "Dyson and my career are now on the line as well."

"I fired the shots." She says nodding.

* * *

_**Saint Andrew's Hospital—2:02 p.m.**_

"My God, you're beautiful." The words were meant to be a thought not a statement but none the less they are out now.

I stand near the wall, curtain pushed open just enough for me to see her sitting on the edge of the bed with nothing more than her bra, her hair loosely down and no makeup—just natural. I know she'll think I mean this because she is shirtless and while that is a nice plus I mean it overall.

"I—um, meant that professionally?" I chuckle out nervous, rolling my eyes at myself but she smiles, actually smiles for once.

"It's cool, I uh—kind of have that effect on people."

"Do you now?" I raise an eyebrow. "Good to know."

"Not that I am complaining but why are you here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Don't trust the doctors here?"

"I do, but I am—overly cautious—call it a personality flaw."

"Cute." She smiles, eyes moving over me. "I'm good, thank you."

"Well then, when all is said and done I have your jacket in my office." I flash a smile and turn to leave until the sound of her voice brings me to a halt.

"Why?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you do that today?"

"CSIS have a tendency to take badges really easily especially from officers that come from departments with a reputation such as yours." I swallow hard and stare at her. "I think you made a stupid and rookie mistake today that could have gotten you killed. But I also think that was punishment enough, I don't think you deserve to lose your badge—unless it happens again."

"Th—thank you."

"Thank Dyson who is out trying to track down that gun before someone else does." I catch the harshness in my tone. "You don't have your weapon unstrapped if you are chasing someone unless it's in your hand because things like today can happen or it could just fall out without you knowing it and be picked up by some kid."

"I understand Lauren."

"I'm glad." I say through a glare, she thinks I am trying to kick her while she is down, I am not though.

I am telling her because Dyson won't.

I am telling her because she needs to hear it.

I am telling her because I was actually scared for her and I don't know how to handle that.

* * *

_**City Morgue-7:14 p.m.**_

"What are you doing still here?"

I look up from my desk, pulling my glasses off and looking to Hale standing in the doorway of my office.

"Working."

"I thought Lachlan told you to go home."

"He did."

"Then why are you still here?"

"I'm hiding, I messed up today with Kenzi so I'm not in any rush to get home."

"Wanna come to The Dal? Just you and me?"

"No, thank you. I know I need to go make amends I would have an hour ago I just lost track of time."

"Cool, no problem-can I ask you something?" ah, his real reason for stopping by.

"Sure."

"Is Lil Mama planning on leaving me?" his eyes narrow and I am completely taken back by his question—I don't have these discussions.

"Not that I know."

"She has been sorta distant within the past week and I'm just wondering—"

"Hale, I promise you what she is distracted about has nothing to do with you."

"Another dude?" he makes this face and nods.

"No, nothing like that—look I can't tell you but I promise she is happy with you and if anything expect a call tonight to hear her yelling about how awful I am." I give him a soft smile and it seems to sooth him.

"Thanks."

"Not a problem."

* * *

_**Lexington Commons-8:09 p.m.**_

"Hey." I greet softly, tossing my jacket on the desk next to the door along with my keys.

"You're still alive." She says from the couch, beer in hand.

"Yeah, I am."

"Well good." She removes her socked feet from the glass coffee table before placing her beer on it. "That's all I needed to know." She stands up and turns the T.V. off before dropping the remote.

"Kenz a lot happened today."

"Yeah I know a lot was happening with me."

"I wanted to be there for the lunch I swear and just what happened-"

"Tell me what happened then, make me understand."

"I—I can't tell you."

"Then you can suck donkey balls." She brushes passed me going toward the stairs.

"Kenz, come on—tell me how it went."

"Kiss my tiny ass." She barks as she walks up the stairs.

Well-there is always tomorrow.


	3. Collide

_**Chapter Three:**__**Collide**_

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_**Friday**_

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_**City Morgue-10:14 a.m.**_

I hate mornings…

That's the only thought that has seemed to be consistent in my mind since I awoke this morning. Nothing about Kenzi or how I let her down yesterday nor anything about Bo—in any sense.

I think the thought I really wanted to think this morning was that I hate life but something about the sentience just seemed so immature.

Three young boys were dead, three families of God knows how many are morning their loved ones—I had no right to stand here and say my life sucks right now.

I take a gulp of my second cup of coffee of the morning as I walk into the morgue intending to head into my office and look over paper work for the rest of the afternoon but I find the strangest thing—a sheet covered body on my autopsy table—with no one else present.

"Interesting," I grumble to myself walking over to the table, placing my coffee on the side tray before pulling back the sheet to his mid-chest. "Shit."

James Collins is laying in front of me—three shots centered in the middle of his chest.

"Morning." I look up to find Dyson standing in the doorway of my office, shoulder leaning against the wall.

"What is this?"

"What does it look like?"

"You were supposed to find him not kill him." I say as if he didn't know what my intentions were when I sent him off on his little mission yesterday.

"Justifiable homicide."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, that's so." He steps out from my office taking two steps forward. "Took three to the chest myself before I got him, luckily I had my vest on."

"How ironic." I shake my head with a little chuckle having to look away from him and his grin that is just begging to shine through. "Sorry, just you don't seem the type to wear a vest."

"Neither is Bo but I don't see you questioning her."

"I saw her get shot."

"Would you like to see my vest?" his brow furrowing as he takes three steps forward.

"Where's the gun?"

"Gave it back to Bo this morning."

"So you have your own?"

"Yep." His eyes narrowing in on me as he taps his right hand against the holstered weapon three times as if once wouldn't have been enough for me to get the point. "Something to say Doctor Lewis?"

"You already know what I am thinking Detective Thornwood."

"I do, but see here's the thing." His grin finally comes through as he glances around the room before taking another three steps toward me. "I have three slugs in my vest from Bo's gun, Bo's vest has three slugs from her own gun, he has gun residue on his hands and if any attention is called to this issue they are going to realize that the events in the alley don't add up to what they were told—by you."

"You want me to cover up a homicide?"

"A justifiable homicide, all it takes Doc is your signature and it's gone especially with everything going on around here—no one would even think to look at any paperwork." He takes the last two steps, hands resting on the edge of the table. "This guy is a sex offender, raped a sixteen year old girl and shot Bo in the chest three times without any hesitation—are you really that self-righteous to throw away your career, my career-and Bo's for this piece of shit?"

I remain silent glaring into his eyes, that smug grin firmly on his lips that I wouldn't mind slapping right off.

"See I knew you were team player all along."

"Dyson, this is your one and only get out of jail free card—next time you want to get trigger happy I nail your ass to the wall without a second thought."

"You know what Doc," he leans forward, grin turning into a smirk as his eyes settle on my lips. "I bet you have one hell of a mouth in bed." His eyes moving up to mine. "You play this laid back and quite mouse but something tells me you're a top."

"You really want to know the answer to that?" I relax my tone as I lean in to meet him, our faces only three to four inches apart. He makes this sound as his smirk grows—God his ego was severely overinflated. "Then you know what you should do?" my voice a husky whisper.

"What?" he asks leaning in another inch.

"Ask Bo." I smirk coldly as I pull back slowly to stand upright—he is so pissed. I know I shouldn't have gone there—especially since it wasn't true but he needed to be taken down a peg, actually he needed to be taken down several but I don't have the time nor do I care enough.

"Doctor, Doctor, Doctor." He says shaking his head, overly smug and accomplished smirk reverting to a grin that did nothing to hide his irritation. "There is something about you, I don't know what it is yet—I will figure it out though."

"Good luck with that." He lets out a laugh with a shake of his head, his way of admitting he lost the round, so to speak. I watch him closely as he heads for the exit. "Oh and Dyson," he stops but doesn't turn around nor look back. "Don't ever threaten me again."

"Whatever you say Doctor Lewis."

* * *

_**Station Hallway-1:42 p.m.**_

"Well hello Doctor," Does no one remember I have a name? "What are you doing up here?"

"I stopped by to give Detective Walker something." I glance over and smile at her as I hit the down button for the third time, damn elevators.

"Didn't think to stop by and say hi?"

"You guys are busy, I didn't want to disturb you."

"You're never disturbing me." She says in that low, sultry tone she gets while taking two steps to her left so she is in my line of sight and short of turning my back to her I won't be able to avoid looking at her. "Suddenly feeling shy?"

"No," I can't help but laugh softly rolling my eyes at her, more accurately the adorable face she makes when she asks me this. "I just have work to do."

"Well I am on lunch, care to grab a bite?" I raise an eyebrow—it always annoyed me when people used that term, honestly it made no sense to me.

"I can't, I have-"

"Work?"

"Yes." That and I am actively trying to avoid spending more time with you—she doesn't need to know that part of it.

"Okay, fair enough." Finally the elevator door open and she steps aside to allow me in but keeps her hand on the door to keep it from closing. "What about dinner?"

"I will still be working then."

"You don't eat?"

"Hardly." The door tries to close but once again she holds it open and I can't help but look to my left and then right at the two officers waiting to make it to their destinations as well.

"Fine, then a drink."

"Bo."

"It's just a drink Lauren, you'll be surrounded by cops if that makes you feel better."

"Bo, please." I tilt my head to the left trying to indicate the elevator that had occupants other than me as she prevents the doors from closing once again.

"Agree to a drink, I have an hour before I have to punch back in so." She shrugs with this little smirk that I can't help but smile at—she knows she has me, I can tell by the way her lips curve into a smile. "Nine o'clock."

"Fine."

"Nine."

"Bo." I try to sound angry while suppressing a laugh—it doesn't work.

"The things I have to do to get her attention." She says to the young patrol officer next to me who is trying not to let out a laugh.

"Yes ma'am."

"Really, yesterday I had to kidnap her to get her to have coffee with me. Isn't that crazy?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Bo." I raise my eyebrow, the feel of the tops of my cheeks pinking.

"Fine, fine Doctor Grumpy-Pants."

"She has a problem with the word no." I say a few seconds after she finally lets the doors close as I look over to the young officer who looks no older than twenty.

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

_**City Morgue-2:08 p.m.**_

"You know one of the benefits of being an autopsy gremlin is that I am left alone." I say in a sigh as I walk in to find Lachlan standing over the writing desk in the back of the room.

"It appears as if someone has fed you after midnight." He turns around, red folder in his left hand as he taps it against his right while leaning against the desk. "You've been a bad, bad girl."

"Have you come to punish me?" I raise my brow with a smirk.

"Oh Lauren, flirting with me is pointless—I'm well aware of your '_type_'."

"Can I actually help you with something or did you just stop by to make eighties movies references and cheesy porno lines?"

"Covering up murders?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." I sigh walking further in.

"Lauren." He says flatly, the sense of amusement he had vanishing as he stands up straight. "It's all right here; you're ruling this justifiable homicide with maybe two words in every column. _**You are. **_The same you who will rewrite an entire page of a report if the color of someone's shoes are recorded as the wrong shade."

"I thought this killer was of upmost importance, and a justifiable homicide by a decorated officer didn't need extensive explanation. My findings backup the detective's."

"Lies of omission are still lies." He tosses the folder on the desk before walking over to me.

"If you had proof to back up your claim you wouldn't be here fishing."

"You Doctor Lewis," he hesitates as his hand cups my cheek making me look over to him. "are playing a very dangerous game." He pulls his hand away and without a further word walks out.

He was right, I was playing a dangerous game-several in fact.

He just had no idea how dangerous.

* * *

_**The Dal-9:03 p.m.**_

"Hey stranger." I say through at hesitant smile as I approach her, I know Dyson is sitting next to her but I chose to pretend he isn't there—I chose to do that a lot lately.

"Hey." She looks up at me with a smile that turns into a smile of a deer-caught in headlights thus suddenly making me feel ten times more awkward than I was to begin with.

"Am I late or early?"

"No, we uh," she fumbles her words as she slides over a bit. "we had plans." She says turning to him who is already in sulky-brooding mode, not that he has many others to pick from.

"Oh yeah? Case stuff?"

"Just being social. Were you leaving?" I answer for her.

"What and miss this?" he's grinning now as he scoots back and maneuvers himself to face us.

"Great." She taps her hands on her lap as she continues to look at him, I can tell she is tense and most likely scowling despite the fact she hasn't looked back at me again. "Why don't we-why don't we all just hangout for a bit, okay? Scootch over Dyson."

"I don't scootch."

"Oh come on, you're one hairless patch of skin away from being a wolf." She chuckles nervously, hands staying on her knees as she turns to me. "I'm sure we can find him a carpet or something." She has the strangest sense of humor. "Yeah, so—we've never done this before huh? Just the three of us," she is so nervous, I don't think I have ever seen her fidget so much. "Like a threesome-not that I've thought about it that way or anything."

I'm pretty sure she has.

I knew I should have said no—or at least just sent her a cancellation text.

This right here is not something I do, I don't do love triangles.

"Well this is fun," Bo lets out in yet another nervous chuckle after a good solid minute of silence.

"Hm," he lets out in between a sip of beer. "If this is Doctor Lewis just being social, we need to do this more often—it's a hoot."

"Well we can't all be as articulate and masterful in the art of grunting as you, Dyson."

"Sometimes it's nice to not have to hear several thousand words for a simple yes or no."

"Whoa guys we're all on the same side here." Bo cuts in as she leans forward handing us each a recently delivered shot. "Okay, so I think we should just do all of these shots."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Are you questioning my loyalty?" I snap, eyes narrowing. He had no place to say anything about my '_team skills'_ after this morning.

"Should we be?"

"We?" Bo lets out through a mixture of a sigh and chuckle, her way of saying don't include me in this.

"And this is what I wanted to avoid." I say softly looking directly at her, he will have his assumptions as to what it means but she knows exactly what it means. "Thanks for the um," I lean forward putting my shot back down on the table. "Fun?"

"Yeah." She lets out in this sad whisper as she watches me get up and I'm sure she watches as I walk away.

I pass Hale and Kenzi sitting at the bar, I could have honestly sat down and had a much needed drink with them but considering Hale was in full '_worry_' mode over Kenzi's new distance and she was still pissed because of my neglecting of her yesterday afternoon I give a polite smile and continue walking toward the exit.

I don't know what I was thinking honestly, I have work and me and her is simply a bad idea.

"Wait up!" I hear her calling from behind me but I just continue through the parking lot to my car, maybe she'll let me go. "Didn't you hear me calling after you?" she asks in a slightly labored chuckle as she comes to a stop behind me.

For a second I don't say anything, I just look down at my key that I have in the lock already—so close.

I don't have to turn around.

"Hey," tone soft as her hand rests on my bicep, I tilt my head to look at her hand for a moment before turning around. "You okay?"

"I am fine Bo, trying to go home."

"Look, about in there-"

"I told you." I don't catch the harshness in my tone before it's too late. "I told you Bo, I don't play games. I don't play the role of mistress, I don't do one night stands and I don't play second choice."

"You don't apparently eat either." She smirks another tiny chuckle only adding to my annoyance.

"I don't do love triangles either." My lips pressing together unconsciously, a way keep me from going on I guess. "You're beautiful Bo and cute and charming and you have this way of being sometimes that makes it impossible not to smile at you, not to think how adorable you are but then there are moments like this where you try and act the same way and it just makes me find you immature."

"You think I'm immature?" her eyebrow raises, a step backward.

"I think you can be. Tonight was a perfect example, you tired so hard to get me to agree to this but then you behave—"

"We were talking and—"

"You didn't think and then you tried to charm your way through it not caring whether or not it made him or myself uncomfortable."

"Okay," she says through a sigh, eyes dropping to the ground as she takes a breath. "You got me there, I was an ass and so was he but that's why I came after you, I mean that should count for something."

"I don't do love triangles."

"You said that," she huffs trying to keep her irritation in check.

"Because it's true, this isn't some television show I don't plan on being dragged around for a few seasons while you get your kicks trying to find yourself."

"I—I don't even know what that means."

"It means I can see you don't know what you want and don't get me wrong I am not some crazy person who thinks one date means we're getting married, I even told you if you weren't committed to him then I wouldn't be opposed."

"Then I'm really not seeing the problem here."

"There is a difference between casually dating two people and playing them. I bet after your little show this afternoon with me you went and had lunch with him. You knew we had a date but you decided to sit and flirt with him until I got here and well you messed up so you tried to make us both play by YOUR rules. Now you're out here trying to smooth this over but I bet you when I drive away you will go back in there and flirt with him and maybe even end up in bed with him—that's your choice Bo but to me that isn't playing the field that's playing the players."

"You don't know me." Words coming through a clenched jaw, her nostrils flaring as she tries to pretend my words have no truth to them.

"I think I see more of you than you would like to admit."

"You're wrong."

"Then prove me wrong."

"I don't owe you anything Lauren."

"You're exactly right Bo, you don't—yet you're standing here desperately trying to justify yourself to me."

"Tonight was a mistake." She lets out looking away from me as she says it; I don't bother to speak but rather just nod in agreement.

* * *

_**Lexington Commons-10:40 p.m.**_

"Jesus!" I jump finding Kenzi sitting on the stool of the kitchen island, back to me and beer in hand. "Sorry, I just didn't expect to see you." I chuckle out slightly embarrassed I had gotten so surprised by her, guess I was more in my thoughts than I had initially thought.

Holding onto the wall I kick off my shoes and then pull off my jacket, I reach out for the light switch but stop short, Kenzi obviously had been sitting her in the dimness of the secondary kitchen over the sink light for a reason.

"How did you beat me back any way?" I ask walking straight for the fridge and pulling out a beer, I was much more of a fan of wine coolers but I was in the mood for an actual drink.

"Doesn't take that long to get here Lauren," a pause as she takes a drink. "Especially when you aren't caught up having a lover's quarrel."

"I wasn't having a lover's quarrel."

"Spat? Argument? Disagreement? Pick any word you would like."

"It was a discussion between-friends."

"Friends?" she snorts, shaking her head as she takes another swig. "Since when do you risk your career for a friend?"

"I don't know what you mean." I lie bringing the bottle to my lips as I walk out of the kitchen and toward the living room.

"Seems your girl has a big mouth, told Hale about what happened yesterday-why you weren't here for me."

"Jesus Kenz, we've been preparing you for that interview for months. You knew everything you needed to know weeks ago and yes, I was a horrible person for not showing up for you but I was busy—"

"Falling for a mark?"

"Don't." I say flatly, eyes meeting hers as she turns to face me.

"**I'm** your sister and **I** needed you to be here for **me**."

"I am here for you!" I didn't intend to yell but intended or not my voice fills the apartment. "Don't you ever dare say I haven't been here for you. I was here to take you off the streets, I was here to get you clean and keep you that way. I was here to make sure no one ever found out about it. I was here the entire time to prepare you for this Godd—" I cut myself off, biting my bottom lip. "I've been here Kenzi and I will always be here for you, I had confidence that even without an hour of me kissing your ass that you would do amazing, I made a judgment call and helped her out."

"You risked your career."

"You don't understand."

"I understand." She slams her bottle down as she jumps off the stool. "You're becoming a damn cliché and falling for her."

"You're one to talk." I snap back, voice rising ever so slightly once again.

"It's not the same."

"Keep telling yourself that." I take the last gulp of my beer which is actually more than half but I do it in one try before setting it down on the coffee table and heading for the stairs. "Congrats on making it through the first round of interviews by the way." I snort as I reach the mid-way point.

* * *

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_**Saturday**_

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_**Lexington Commons-9:53 a.m.**_

"Relax Doctor, this isn't social." She greets me with before I even fully make it out of my building's front door.

She doesn't wait for a response nor does she wait for me to walk over to her, she does however pull the door open before walking around the hood of the car leaving me to close my own door.

I would say it's safe to assume she is still mad about last night.

"Where are we going?"

"In case you haven't noticed it's Saturday-less than twenty-four hours before we find out if Agent Dick-Head was right. We all have lists of possible suspects, I'm checking out the North-East end of government funded group homes. Hale has the shelters while Dyson and Tamsin split to take the North-West end."

"And the other detectives?"

"Captain is subtly working her media contacts to find out if they've heard anything and she called in off duty uniformed to hit the streets particularly around neighborhoods high with kids."

"This guy isn't going to be some bum off the street Bo."

"Probably not, thus why we are checking out the halfway houses. Beat cops can't do much other than be out in force and assist if we need them."

"Alrighty then."

* * *

_**Auxier Halfway House-2:39 p.m. **_

"Almost five hours down the drain and nothing." She huffs, shaking her head as she walks up the sidewalk to meet me. "Can't freaking believe we've seen over a hundred and fifty people and not one single person meets the general description, I repeat general."

"I don't know what to tell you Detective, too young or old or the weight discrepancy not to mention the ones who were sick or strung out, hardly the material to carry out anything beyond a stick up and even then half of them would probably collapse before their getaway." I grumble, running my hand through my hair as I look over at the building.

"I know just at this point I'd even take a false identification just to feel like we haven't wasted nearly five hours with nothing to show for it."

"Then we would waste even more time." My tone flat as I begin toward the car.

"Lauren, both of us can't be moody here otherwise nothing will ever get done."

"Bo, now it's the time." I glance back at her as I get into the car.

She thinks this is about her or our fight last night—it's not.

She doesn't understand and it's not her place to.

Kenzi was right last night I was becoming severely attached to Bo at a scary rate and I had not even realized it.

I could say it was the fact that we've been in multiple dangerous situations and now we are being forced to be partners of a sort but that wasn't it—not completely though I know logically it does add onto it. It was more than me finding her attractive and funny and charming—it was—well honestly I don't really know definitively what it was that seemed to be drawing me to her at an alarming rate.

"Is it time for that bonding thing again?" she brings me out of my thoughts as she asks this, pulling her door shut before looking over to me. "Because I've actually managed to find time to think about what else I could share."

"No." I shake my head.

"Really? Because this really feels like one of those moments."

"This feels like you should drive to wherever we have to go next."

She nods, her feelings look hurt but she gets settled and ready to drive.

I didn't want to be mean and I wasn't trying to be but everything was becoming a little much at the moment. All of my worlds seemed to be colliding at once, past and present, family and work—not to mention the fact we were no closer to finding a suspect now than we were three days ago.

"My father is dead and I don't speak to my mother."

"I'm sorry?" I heard her I just didn't register her words at first having been deep within my own thoughts.

"This life—this job wasn't supposed to be for me. I was a small town country girl and I was going to be a house wife with kids and a husband."

"A house wife?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well maybe I would have had a job at a market or something."

"Pretty big change there."

"Yeah well life had other plans." she looks out of her window for a moment, it's more to hide her face than anything. "I was sixteen when I got kicked out of the house, they were—are highly religious in a weird, strict and scary way. I don't blame them though."

"Because you are," I hesitate, I honestly don't know what she is. "Because you like women?"

"No." she snorts out a chuckle. "Though I'm sure if they had known that part they would have tried an exorcism or something too." She glances over at me and I do the best I can to read her despite her damn sunglasses. "My high school sweetheart, probably the boy I was going to be the housewife to-he um, died."

"How did they blame you for that?"

"Kyle, that was his name." a quick glance toward me. "Kyle was what I said and I was the same for him. We were young and in love and stupid—we one night pulled into our favorite spot in the Hassle's field and started making out and well one thing led to another. I thought I was in love, that I was going to spend my life with him and it wasn't like other kids, it wasn't some cheap pull in and screw in the backseat, that field had meaning for us you know?" I just nod though I'm not sure if she catches it or not. "I still to this day don't know what happened or rather how it happened but he was driving me home and—I never saw the other car. I was looking at him and then I saw lights on his face before I was waking up in the hospital."

"He died?"

"Yeah, instantly they said."

"But that isn't your fault Bo."

"My parents didn't share your opinion, they said a lot of things to me the next morning when I was allowed to return home but the main theme was that I was evil, that it happened because I seduced him before marriage—you know the deal."

"That isn't true though." I say softly, my hand going over her forearm that was resting on the console between us. Her attention flies to me and I almost jerk back but something inside myself says not to.

I wet my lips with my tongue and swallow the lump in my throat, what am I supposed to do?

Should I leave it at that? Should I try and comfort her? Should I ask questions that she obviously doesn't want to answer? Should I do my half of this bonding deal that I have set in motion? Should I lie about my end? Should I continue down this slippery slope and tell her another something about myself?

"Kenzi is my sister." She looks over at me again with a look that I can't describe, it's a look that is pretty much calling me a liar while condemning me for making light of her sharing. "Really, well my foster sister."

"You were a foster kid?"

"Mm-hm, my parents died when I was eight in a car accident and I didn't have anyone to take me in so I went to foster care. You know, the same old sob story I'm sure you've seen a hundred times before." I shrug, I guess more for my own benefit than hers. "Kenzi came into the house on my last year there, she was six and I was eighteen at the time."

"I thought they kicked you out when you hit eighteen?"

"They do, but the lady was nice and so long as I helped I was able to stay. Kenzi was angry and a trouble maker—basically who she is now minus some of the anger. We just sort of fell together after a bit but it wasn't long after that, that I had moved on with school—I kept in touch though, you know visiting on weekends and whatnot."

"So how did you two end up living together?"

"Mrs. Daviau had cancer, when I was twenty-one she could no longer care for the children so they were being slowly sent away, Kenzi was the last one and I-I ended up taking her in."

"You adopted her?" she looks over to me as we pull to a stoplight but I look away, I'm sure she didn't mean it the way it sounded but the hint of amusement doesn't exactly comfort me into continuing. "I'm sorry it's just—different than what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know. I mean maybe you two were just roommates or met at some odd end job or maybe even dated I guess."

"She is twelve years my junior."

"And ten Hale's but look at them."

"Well I don't normally date younger and certainly not someone that much younger."

"Why not?"

"Maturity issues."

"I'm not sure if you mean her or myself?"

"Honestly," I pause turning to look at her as she glances over at me, the light turning green but she wants an answer. "Both."

"I'm not immature."

"You can be at times given certain situations."

"Why is it you have such a low opinion of me?"

"I don't have a low opinion of you, I promise you I don't." I glance over at her but oddly enough her eyes are locked on the street. "I just don't like some of the choices you make."

"Well they are my choices and you don't have to like them."

"I know." Whether or not she understands the subtext woven into these past few statements is beyond the point. "Where are we going now?"

"Back to the church first, need to talk to that priest before we meet with the first victim's family." She glances over at me and I guess I am making a face. "I promise I'll behave."

"We'll see."

* * *

_**City Morgue-6:21 p.m.**_

I can't help but chuckle to myself as I walk in to find Lachlan sitting in my desk chair, leaning back and reading yet another file of mine.

"Comfortable?"

"Mm," he doesn't bother looking up as I walk in and take a seat in my guest chair. "Enjoy playing field officer with your new girlfriend?"

"You were the one who instructed her to utilize me on Thursday, you can't blame her for thinking it's a smart idea."

"No of course not, probably the only viable thought she has had this week. But I can and do have a problem with the fact of the relationship you two are engaging in."

"There is no relationship." I lean back in the chair, left leg folding over the right. "Even if there was, it would be of no concern to you Agent."

"Now Lauren, we both know that is a lie."

"Why exactly are you in my office Connor?"

"It seems as though your girlfriend's boyfriend has quite an interesting theory."

"I'm glad for him."

"Well it was due but it is wrong, then again if they had an actual profile to work off of then maybe there wouldn't be such a discrepancy."

"It's not my place nor my job."

"Another lie," he shakes his head and makes this 'tisking' sound with his mouth as he sits upright. "Certainly hope you visited the confessional while you were at the church with the way you're racking up these venial sins. What is it three within a matter of a minute?"

"I repeat what exactly are you doing here Conner?"

"Don't call me Connor." He stands up and extends the folder toward me, my eyes moving from his to the folder and back before I take it. "You'll be quite interested to know what his theory is."

"I'm sure I will." I watch him as he walks away before looking down at the folder.

* * *

_**Third Floor-Homicide Unit—6:49 p.m.**_

"What is this?" I bark tossing the folded down the first desk in the middle row, luckily Dyson is standing beside it pretending to run the place.

"I don't know, what is it?" that stupid grin of his.

"We have maybe nineteen hours left and you are turning this entire investigation on this man?" my voice is still above its normal tone, I can hear that but I don't have the will nor desire to lower it.

"It is a logical choice."

"Bullshit."

"Lauren." I hear Hale call my name from behind me.

"This man, Christian Alexander Hendrix is a quote unquote disciple of Carter Cane."

"Exactly why he is a suspect." He says, grin in place as he looks around the room.

"Do you know what Cane did? He liked girls between sixteen and twenty seven, all of which were virgins. His disciples would follow that M.O. they would not differ."

"Maybe he decided he wanted a following of his own." His eyes now locked with mine.

"That is like saying a Manson follower is suddenly eating young gay men, it's not going to happen. These people are sick and disturbed but most of all they are devoted, if they decide to take their obsession to the next level they will follow their master's M.O. NOT create their own."

"Why don't you leave the policing to the police?"

"It doesn't even matter what you think because you aren't lead detective."

"Lauren, this is the first viable lead that we've come across." Bo says as she folds her arms over her chest leaning against the desk next to us, eyes dancing between the two of us.

"No, it isn't." I know my tone is harsh, I know everyone in the office including a few patrol officers are staring but I don't have time to care about that now. "Send some uniforms but do not throw everything at him Bo, he is not who we are looking for."

"Go back downstairs and play with your bodies, Doctor and let us do our jobs." I hear Dyson's words but my eyes stay locked with Bo's, she looks like a little kid again caught between her fighting parents.

"Lauren—"

"You've got to be kidding me right now Bo."

"Sorry blondie, cops stick together." I hear Tamsin from behind me causing me to turn and look back at Dyson who has the smuggest smile I've ever seen, as if Bo siding with him is proving something other than that some poor child's body is going to be found tomorrow night.

"Don't do this Dyson." I lower my tone but it comes out as a near growl.

"Do what? Follow a lead that will end up saving this next kid's life?"

"It will end up killing this next boy!" I yell taking an unconscious step forward stopping when my thighs hit the edge of the desk.

"Go," he yells, hands slamming on the desk as he leans forward, Evony's voice in the background calling him. "Back downstairs or go home, I don't give a shit but get out of my way!"

"You are going to get this next boy killed!"

"Escort this woman back downstairs." Dyson tells a nearby patrol officer who looks fearful and hesitant so his steps out from behind Dyson and toward me are slow. "She needs to calm down."

"Don't touch her." Bo says flatly-I don't need her help-I don't want it.

"Don't do this Dyson." I plead. "This isn't about one upping the other in front of Bo or trying to show off, there is a child's life at stake."

"Remove her." He repeats.

"This one is on you Dyson—you just killed this kid." I shove the folder across the desk at him as I turn and walk past both Bo and Hale along with another two beat cops who decided to stop and see the commotion.

"Lauren wait." She calls after me but I don't stop nor do I look back. "Lauren Jesus fuckin' Christ, wait a damn minute."

"Why don't you go back and help your boyfriend." I snap pressing the button for the elevator.

"That is out of line." She snaps right back. "It is a viable lead and without it we have shit. We need something."

"So bad that you would chase something so far off the mark?" I spin around, eyes locking with hers. "You would follow his lead just so you can say you feel better that you tried? Not take any damn responsibility?"

"That isn't what this is about." She says as I start to step onto the elevator.

"Bullshit!" I snap stepping right back out. "You're supposed be the Goddamn lead detective and you're letting him run things because he rocks your world?" I snort rolling my eyes. "Or is it because you're so damn chicken-shit to make a judgment call of your own?"

"So what?! I should just side with you to prove a point?!"

"NO! I don't give a shit Bo, pick his-pick mine-or hell make up your own but just make a damn choice because it's what you believe and not because you're fucking him or want to fuck me. You are a damn detective, you are supposed to be leading this not him!"

"I support his decision."

"Then don't come crying to me tomorrow."

"Where are you going?" she barks walking up to me, my hand going out keeping the elevator from closing.

"I'm going home."

"There is still work to be done, if you're so damn worried about it, shouldn't you be staying to help?"

"I'll be here tomorrow for the cleanup Bo, after all that is all I am good for, just ask your boyfriend."

I step onto the elevator, her hand slamming against the door to keep it open. She is fuming, I've seen her angry—angry at me as well but not like this.

I glance past her and see the various officers who have taken an interest in us. My eyes setting on Lachlan off in the distance who is just standing there statuesque staring at me—at her-at us.

Seems the more this week goes the more me and her become an '_us' _in various meanings of the word—none of which seem to be a good thing.

I look back at her, our eyes meeting as they always seem to do.

I look people in the eyes normally, it's professional and proper not to mention it can tell you a lot about a person but I never liked to keep a gaze for long periods of a time—with her though my eyes always just seemed to find hers. Like that was where they were supposed to be.

Her lips part-another insult—another line of defense of herself-another defense of him?

She remains silent though as she moves back a step before pulling her hand away letting the door come to a close.

* * *

.

.

_**Sunday**_

.

.

_**Lexington Commons-2:49 a.m.**_

I bring myself upright slowly, tilting my head side to side trying to work the kink out that has apparently come from falling asleep with my head on the arm of the couch.

Drawing a deep breath I run my hands through my hair and look over at the television, the screen a bright blue which annoys my sleep sensitive eyes. Looking down at the coffee table full of folders and papers—that's right I was doing research and the interrogation tape must have come to an end.

I look around the apartment—what woke me?

My thought just nearly finishing as I hear a pound on the door.

"Kenzi?" I call out as I lazily push myself off of the couch and shuffle toward the door. "Did you forget your keys?"

It's not Kenzi I find standing at my door but rather Bo.

She's just standing there staring at me with this look of innocence—of pain. She looks damp but not wet—maybe snow?

"We—um—we found another body." Her voice breaking every other letter, jaw trembling—for a lack of a better word. "It was-a little girl this time"

"What?" her words jerking my mind toward full consciousness. "A little girl at this hour? Are you sure that—"

"It's our killer." She nods, eyes dropping to my feet.

"Let me get dressed." I look down at myself, scrub pants, socks and a tee-shirt are not exactly the proper attire for crime scenes.

"Agent Lachlan doesn't want you there, had your assistant bag and tag everything until morning."

"Why?"

"Something about what happened tonight, Hale and Tamsin are at the scene me and Dyson were sent home as well."

"Then why are you here?"

"I um," she looks up at me with this inquisitive look. "I don't honestly know. I was driving and driving and then I was going to go home to look over some of my notes but I found myself here."

"Do you want to come in?"

"I don't know." She gives this little shrug, features so tender.

"Come in Bo." I '_order'_ as I step aside and gesture toward the couch. "Did you want something to drink?" I ask as I push the door closed.

"No." she shakes her head as she takes a seat. I debate sitting on the loveseat but something about that screams childish and petty. "They aren't about this case." Tone flat as I notice her looking down at the files.

"Taking on two cases at once—you really are Superwoman."

"Not really," I lean down closing the folders before taking a seat next to her. "Was checking on some things."

"I don't know why I am here."

"I can see that." My eyes dancing over her face looking for some sort of clue as to what she is looking for from me.

"Dyson is holding his ground that he wants to go full force after this guy, now more than before."

"Well, I think I made my feelings perfectly clear on that."

"You did." She nods, hands on her knees as her eyes stay on the cover of the light green folder. "Why—how are you so sure? How can you be so damn sure that this isn't guy?" she looks over at me, eyes especially shiny—I think she has tears threatening to fall but the lack of light is preventing me from being sure.

"I told you."

"But how? What makes you so damn sure about this?"

"Bo this isn't bonding time, I'm not doing this with you now." I stand up with the intent of going to get a glass of water but her hand on my wrist stops me. "Tell me why you are so afraid to make a decision on your own and I'll tell you what you want to know." I look down at her, I know she is far from innocent but sometimes she gets this look in her eyes that tell me otherwise. "Okay then," I raise an eyebrow after a several heartbeats of silence.

"I'm afraid that what everyone thinks is right, that I don't belong in this job."

"I don't think that."

"Bullshit." She snorts, hand finally leaving my wrist as I take a seat. "You said it tonight, you've been saying it since the first day I met you and maybe you're right."

"You may not be brilliant or have super power instincts or be the most objective—"

"Is there a but coming because I really think I need to hear a but soon otherwise this is a horrible pep talk."

"You might not be brilliant but you're smart and you do have instincts and that heart that keeps you from staying fully objective is what makes you, you. I see it Bo, when you aren't trying to impress people you are pretty impressive." I smile softly as a grin pulls at the corner of her mouth. "You try and over prove things to people and in doing so you mess yourself up. But I've seen you, in the office the other day you knew what I was talking about before they did. I watched you all day question person after person asking questions that most wouldn't think to ask."

"Careful Doc, almost sounds like you're giving me a compliment." Her lips fixing in a gentle smile, her eyes actively avoiding mine.

"I'm just telling you what I see."

"I'm scared that I'm going to make a call and be wrong."

"But what if you're not? Bo you let everyone else tell you what should be done and—I'm not your mother and I'm not your boss so my opinion doesn't mean much—"

"It means more than you know." Her eyes finally meeting mine and for a brief moment I forget what I am thinking.

"I think you have the potential to be great if you would stop running from it." I say but she doesn't have a response so we just sit here in silence for solid minute—maybe two, I never seem to have a good grasp of time when I am with her—watching her.

"So," she taps her knees, looks back down at the table and softly sniffles. "Who is Cassidy Dupont?"

"What?" I let out as I feel this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Who gave you that name?"

"Relax Doc," she looks at me, confusion riddling her features. "I saw her picture in the file before you closed it. She was pretty,"

"She was beautiful." I didn't mean to say it so harshly.

"Okay."

"She was my first—"

"Love?"

"Girlfriend and also my first partner so to speak. I was assigned to her but I was still a rookie—"

"Rookie?"

"I mean it as a novice not how you use the term." I swallow the lump in my throat. "I ignored protocols and we developed a relationship while working together to catch a serial killer."

"Sounds familiar." She whispers, brow furrowing-slight sense of disappointment maybe.

"Yeah, only thing is she is dead now."

"Was it your fault?"

"Yes," I admit for the first time aloud, tears welling in my eyes. "I was supposed to meet her at her place but I had gotten caught up in work, I was sitting in my office determined to solve this problem while she was dying. The best part was the case I was trying to solve wasn't even the one that we were working on, it was another one that had caught my eye."

"You couldn't have known."

"It was my job know."

"Lauren you're a medical examiner not a cop."

"What?" I look up at her through tear filled eyes. "Oh, yeah—right." I chuckle through a sigh. "She is the victim that didn't scream, the one I was talking about-"

"During the lecture."

"Yeah." I nod. "We had a fight and she was forced to take a day off and I wasn't so—at any point in time I could have went to visit her, it was a stupid fight but I had my pride until that afternoon when I had thought that maybe it wasn't worth it-then my attention got peaked by the case." I shrug, tearing my eyes away from hers once again. "A stupid, insignificant case at that."

"Lauren," another whisper as she reaches out and rests her hand over mine. "You could not have known."

"I know, logically I know that I could not have known what was going to happen or what was happening but the part of me that felt for her-the part of me that," my voice trailing as I slowly turn my hand over within hers. "That ignores logic when it comes to my feelings for you—doesn't."

"Well I happen to love that part of you," she breathes out, eyes watching our fingers intertwine.

"This can't happen Bo," I say softly and I swear I mean it but there is little to no conviction to my words, what further protest I had floating away when her eyes come to meet mine.

"Why?"

"For so many reasons." She leans in just a little and I don't mean to but so do I—it's this pull-it's always like gravity with her—inevitable almost.

"There's more to me than what you know."

"I know that Bo," leaning in just a bit more but she doesn't move, her eyes dance over my face as she draws in this deep breath and just holds it. "They say the definition of insanity is repeating the same action while expecting a different result-I've been here before."

"No," she shakes her head ever so slightly causing my gaze to drop to her lips momentarily. "You've never been here before," her free hand cupping my tear moistened cheek. "Neither have I." her whisper trailing off as soft lips find mine.

It's so soft and gentle with these subtle traces of yearning and need that I cannot quite explain. It's not what I thought it would be—it different on so many levels and I need this—maybe she sees that or maybe she feels the same terrifying feeling I feel.

It's sweet—amazing-warm-welcoming—gentle-but most of all it confirms what I knew all along.

I pull back slowly, my forehead resting against hers as my own free hand cups her cheek—God I wish this wasn't so difficult.

"We can't," I keep my eyes shut as I whisper this but all the while I lean into her touch.

"Okay."

"I mean it Bo."

"I know."

She leans back in-maybe I lean back in-maybe we both do.

This time it is very different-very much what I had expected-except I hadn't expected my own reaction to it.

The second her lips cover mine her hands move into my hair, mine wrapping around her waist to rest on the middle of her back. Her soft lips nearly attacking mine and I have never begged for punishment as much as I was in the moment.

Her tongue immediately slipping passed my lips and finding my own all too willing tongue. It's a hungry duel for dominance, a '_proper_' kiss from a lover when you needed to lose yourself-then I remember she isn't a lover-she can't be.

The passion of the kiss quickly dying with me as that thought reminds me of reality.

Mind no longer engulfed with the soft feel of her kissable lips. Nor the sweet taste of her mouth. Nor the feel of her slender yet skillful hands entangled in my hair.

No, sadly my mind was back in this shit-hole that was reality.

"I can't do this," it comes out in a labored whisper as I jerk back from her, quickly I stand running my hand through my hair while taking an excessively large breath. "You're welcome to stay on the couch, in fact I would prefer it considering I know if you go home you won't actually get any rest-you need your rest." I rush my words as I begin walking away.

"Lauren," the sound of my name leaving her lips pulling at my already worn heartstrings but I don't turn around.


	4. Connecting The Dots

_**Chapter Four: Connecting The Dots **_

.

_**(Bo's POV)**_

.

.

.

_**Lexington Commons—6:47 a.m.**_

"Shit." I breathe out as I begin stretching before I bother opening my eyes, an odd stiffness in my back accompanying the sluggish feel that is keeping its claws in not only my mind but body as well.

I roll over burying my face in the cushion, it smells like her.

I can't help but smile to myself, the sight of her-the smell of her—the thought of her-hell even the mention of her—I've never had this before, it's ridiculous to me that amongst everything happening and the fact I think she may be slightly bi-polar—I just can't help but smile with her, but yearn to be near her.

I take another deep breath, the scent of her filling my nose. It's the smell of a musky vanilla, vanilla itself smelled like something you baked with but whatever she wore was sexy, welcoming. If I ever managed to talk to her without it turning into a fight or stories of childhood horrors I would have asked exactly what it was.

Starting to feel like one of the stalkers I'd arrest I roll onto my back, eyes opening to stare at her ceiling.

I can't exactly explain what I'm doing here but I can definitely say it's frustrating-yet wonderful.

It's a horrible thing to say at a time like this I know that and a part of me is secretly loathing myself for this but—I can't help how I feel when I am with her—when I'm around her.

Apart from horrible I also know it's crazy considering up until this week we've had six encounters with one another. There is just something about her—about the way I feel when I'm with her.

"Did you finally get some sleep?"

I hear her voice and I look around but don't see her. Rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands I sit up and look around before finally finding her standing in the kitchen leaning against the island, Elmo coffee mug in hand—that's different.

"Morning." I say, that being all my mind can manage at the moment. Well that and '_Shit, you even look beautiful even at this hour?_', but something tells me after last night that would be ill-advised. "I'm sorry I fell asleep I wasn't going to but—"

"Please." She shakes her head before taking a sip. "I told you too, I could see the signs of exhaustion beginning to set in. You need to take proper care of yourself Bo."

"I do."

"Mm-hm, that's why you have probably up until last night slept an hour a night?"

"No." She is right of course-normally is.

"What are you on?" she raises an eyebrow while taking another sip. She isn't cold but there is a chill between us—different than normal.

"I'm not."

"Bo, please."

"Just caffeine pills," I hesitate as I run my hands through my hair while letting out a yawn. "Over the counter, one hundred percent legal."

"Still not healthy."

"Well I'll be sure to consult my physician on my next visit." I smirk hoping to pull something other than an unreadable look. "Which is in about ten days past never but," I trail off with a chuckle but again there is nothing.

"I made coffee, bagels and bacon—not exactly sure what you eat in the morning. I can also make eggs, I would have made you some when I made my own but you were out cold so I thought better not to."

"Never expected you to be the cooking type."

"I'm not, it annoys me to no end I would much rather eat take out or nothing at all but considering I was raising a nine year old girl I had to suck it up and learn."

"Oh okay." That's all I can think of to say.

She is very short and direct. I mean she normally is, she was never one to talk for the point of talking and I think she has a vendetta against actual small talk but this is different. It's civil but yet kind of like '_get the fuck out'_.

I don't know what to do or say-I never really know what to do or say with her.

I mean with Dyson it's easy I just have to be sexual and ninety-nine percent of my problems are solved, I mean I guess that would work with her too-if she wasn't ready to punch me every time I try and get close to her.

It's all very odd to me, to meet someone who doesn't technically want me—even if just for sex.

I'm all too aware of the fact the people don't want ME. They want what I am good for which is really only one thing—well unless you listen to her compliments in between insults.

"Bo about last night,"

Oh shit, oh shit-show her your tits—no, that won't work—um-what do I do?

"Yeah?" Brilliant Bo, that's the best you could come up with?

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not." The words leave my mouth before I know what I've said, they seem to stump her though and for the first time she makes an expression. It's an inquisitive expression but one none the less.

"I don't get that way normally."

"I know that."

"And the kiss shouldn't have happened."

"Maybe—but do you regret it?" I hold my breath as I gaze into her eyes waiting for an answer.

"I want to," she swallows before looking down as she places her mug on the island top. "But no, I don't regret it."

"Good." I want to smile from ear to ear like an idiot. I want to do a cartwheel or something I can actually do but I don't move and just give her a soft smile, she returns it but hers is-sad.

"I'm going to go upstairs and grab a couple of things before we head out, I think it would be best if we take our own cars."

"Sure." I nod, she is worried about people thinking something is going on between us.

Honestly I don't know what the big deal is since in the big picture of things we don't work together as in together. She was on a different floor in a different department in a whole other sector, she wasn't my partner and she wasn't my boss nor am I hers, so this irrational fear of people thinking something is going on is a bit weird.

Maybe it has to do with that Cassidy girl.

I flash another soft smile as I watch her walk to and then up the stairs, she didn't have the most pronounced curves in history but what she had was quite wonderful.

Once she is out of sight I throw my legs over the edge getting ready to put my shoes on but my eyes catch the table full of folders. This deep curiosity pulling at me, just begging me to open one or two folders up and take a peek.

Would she forgive me if she knew I looked?

Why exactly did I want to look?

Would I be able to forgive myself if I looked?

Taking a breath I glance over my shoulder making sure she isn't coming, my hand slowly reaching out to flip open that green folder I saw Cassidy's picture in.

"I'm home—you." Kenzi says once her eyes set in on me, luckily I had heard the footsteps approaching and dropped my hand to my shoes before she had opened the door completely.

"Hey Kenz," I smile as I step into my left shoe.

Me and this girl were friends, close actually up until recently. I had spent three to four days a week with her for the past few months considering she has Hale pussy-whipped on her but I wasn't complaining, she fits in perfectly-until suddenly when she doesn't answer texts nor really participate in a conversation.

"Where is Lauren?" she throws her keys on the table, scowl fixed on me.

"Upstairs finishing getting ready."

"You stay the night?"

"I did."

"Why?"

"You practicing at being a cop?" I chuckle slipping into my other shoe but she doesn't smile. "I fell asleep on the couch while I was waiting for the snow to die down."

"Good." She says flatly before abruptly walking for the kitchen without so much as another word.

"Hey, have I done something to piss you off?" I ask as I push myself off of the couch and start toward her. She says nothing, just looks at me and takes a bite of a piece of bacon. "I mean it just seems like you're pissed at me lately."

"Wonder where you got that idea Sherlock." She snorts going for another strip.

"So I haven't been imagining it." I nod, well at least I know I haven't gone completely crazy. "Look, I know that as Lauren's sister it's your job to be over protective but I promise I have nothing but good intentions." I could laugh at myself, I sound like a guy in the 1800's asking for permission to date someone's daughter.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions." She snaps, dropping her half eaten piece back onto the plate.

"If you have something to say Kenz, come on out with it."

"I know things Bo," she says flatly and I don't mean to chuckle but I do. It was just how she said it and the way she looked when she did, it made me think of that '_I see dead people'_ line that got played out a while back. "You think this is a joke?"

"No, I'm sorry it's just—no I don't." I remind myself that not only do I like this girl but she is also Lauren's baby sister.

"Lauren has been through enough, she doesn't need your drama and sure as hell doesn't need your issues."

"My issues?"

"Yeah, you're self-homophobia." She says it so coldly while looking into my eyes, a weight sinking in my stomach—if she was anyone else I may have—no, I would have slapped her. "Yeah, know all about that Bo-Bo."

"You know nothing about that." I snap.

"Oh but I do, also know that apart from one night stands you've never dated a woman. In fact other than Dyson you haven't really had any relationship and let's be honest you and Dyson were always on again off again."

"So because I've only had one long lasting relationship I can't like your sister?"

"Because you're immature, run when there is a problem, can't commit and oh yeah, have a little thing called internalized homophobia. I know all about that Bo, last thing Lauren needs is to let her guard down with you and then suddenly have you running for the hills trying to make her feel like shit for her lifestyle choices."

"You—"

"Know nothing about it, yeah you said." She stares at me, this coldness in her eyes. "Stay away from my sister-in regards to personal matters."

I clench my jaw, eyes narrowing. The little voice in the back of my head reminding me of who she was-of why she was saying what she was saying.

Dyson and his big mouth-his need to win.

"Tell Lauren I'll see her at work." I mumble out, the feeling of tears rushing over me as I quickly turn and head for the door.

* * *

_**Third Floor-Homicide Unit-10:22 a.m.**_

"You see this fucking bullshit?" Tamsin growls storming into the '_office'_ grabbing everyone's attention. "Fucking peace of shit pricks gave this fucker and fucking name."

"Fuck a vowel, can I buy a clean word?" Hale smirks leaning back in his chair, tossing his pen down on his desk as he brings his hands behind his head. "My ears are childlike baby, keep it PG."

"What are you talking about?" Dyson asks twisting around in his seat.

"The Montreal Boogeyman."

"What kind of lame ass shit is that?" Detective Burke chimes in from the back corner.

"This guy sneaks into children's bedrooms, takes them without anyone ever hearing or seeing a thing. Takes these terrified little kids without a trace and drowns them before dumping them on the street for the whole world to gawk over-I think it's a disgustingly true name for him." Lauren's voice silencing the entire workspace, even Evony who had been leaning in the doorway of her office having an ashamed look—that was near impossible to do.

"It's just a bit of cop humor." Burke chimes back in.

"Shut the fuck up asshole." Tamsin barks tossing the newspaper down on her desk before taking a seat.

"Oh, look at everyone playing nicely—touching." Agent Dick-Head adds as he walks around Lauren to come stand behind me, leaning against the window.

Fucker had a weird thing for me—for Lauren.

"Late last night or to be technical early this morning something very unique happened."

"You got laid." Dyson mutters under his breath earning a laugh from Burke and Rutherford.

"Non-team players get booted from the team." I say, shooting him a scowl.

"Like me or don't I don't really give a shit Dyson—or anyone else for that matter." She glares never once breaking eye contact with him. "It's not going to change the facts that we all need each other at the moment to stop this guy and to me that is more important than pissing contests."

"Go on Doctor Lewis." Evony says, her word is law around here so I doubt we'll hear another peep.

"Up until this morning, Clayton Paul, Alexander Thomas and Arron Samuel stood as our victims. All white males under the age of nine and above the age of five. After confirmed findings and ruling out all other possible causes drowning was ruled C.O.D. all of this setting a clean, clear cut type. His M.O. was as follows, would break into the house undetected, take the boy without being seen or leaving a trace of evidence. Then he would proceed to drown them before dumping their bodies, with me so far?"

"Do we know exactly how long he is keeping them alive for?" I ask leaning back in my seat.

"No, as of now there is no set time, it was anywhere from two hours to five hours. Now we have a problem, the victim last night was Rebecca Brennan, a Hispanic female who was only four years of age. She was killed and dumped within an hour and a half of her abduction."

"Further supporting Hendrix as a prime suspect." Dyson adds, that damn grin of his firmly in place.

"Yeah, but didn't the Doc say he would only go for sixteen plus?" Hale to the rescue.

"Paul, Thomas and Samuel make three boys obviously, are we thinking maybe he's gonna go for three girl's now?" I ask.

"It's possible, I mean this isn't common. Serial killers are predictable to a fault, it's what keeps them safe for so long but it is also their downfall. His type was set this kill-makes no sense. Perhaps like you said he will go for another two girls, but the difference in age and ethnicity—there is something here that we aren't seeing."

"We've missed something." I toss my pen on my desk as I lean forward, heavy sigh escaping me.

"Look we'll take this into consideration thanks." Dyson says practically dismissing her. "What we're going to do is pound the pavement heavy looking for Hendrix, we find him and this is over."

I take a deep breath, I want to say something but I remain silent.

I feel her stare on me but I can't stand the thought of looking up at her at the moment.

* * *

_**First Floor-Station Gym-4:47 p.m.**_

"You're going to fuck up your hands like that."

I look over at him as he leans against the boxing ring as if he's posing for playgirl—smug fuck.

"I got it, thanks." I turn my attention back to the heavy bag in front of me, my right jabs purposefully landing on the triple strips of white tape keeping the insides from spilling out.

"Why so grumpy?"

"I'm not grumpy." I'm pissed.

"Is this about last night?" AND this morning dick-head-oh AND running your mouth to Kenzi.

"I don't know." Three jabs before a left-hook. He was right though, no tape or gloves-I was going to feel it later but I wanted to feel the pain right now—keeps me focused.

"She needs to be taken down a notch Bo, you know that—shit you said it yourself."

"Months ago!" I snap spinning around to face him. "You don't know her."

"Neither do you." He reminds me-I really don't-not well enough to fight for her like this. "Look Bo," his tone softens as he takes the five steps toward me, reaching out as his hand cups my cheek. "This isn't even about just that, you know that I am right."

"But-Dyson if this guy—"

"Shh." His thumb lightly going over my lips. "Bo, you know when it comes to these things I am better—you just can't do this part of the job."

"Y—yeah." I whisper and nod, swallowing back the hurt.

"Just trust me." He leans in kissing my forehead before turning and walking away.

I watch as he walks away, this hurt festering in the depth of my chest. Turning my attention back to the heavy bag.

Maybe he was right-I should just trust him and follow his lead-I normally do.

But Lauren said-Lauren I haven't known for over five years. She doesn't know me at all.

Then why do I trust her? Why do I feel like I can believe in her? Why is it she makes me feel like I can believe in myself? Why do I feel like this isn't right?

Bo-side with Dyson-you are safe here with him unlike with her.

This isn't right….

* * *

_**Third Floor-Homicide Unit-5:20 p.m.**_

"Go for a swim?" Tamsin smirks as I walk into the '_office_', towel in hand.

"Listen up," I let out causing the five looking over to me waiting-shit. "Dyson has a theory that this Hendrix is our man I say good work for actually coming up with something, Dyson and Tamsin you two continue to peruse this avenue. Burke and Rutherford you've contributed shit to this investigation I suggest you step it up or find yourself replaced but until that happens redo the perve-search, look for anyone within the criteria and start banging on doors-get the uniforms to help you if you need them."

"You're kidding right?" Burke asks look around.

"I am lead detective, I sat back and let Dyson run this in which we've turned up with shit so maybe it's time I actually ran things the way I see fit. Now get on your shit." I say making sure to keep my back straight and jaw tight.

They stare at me and I'm sure mentally call me some names but soon enough they realize I'm not joking. Tamsin gets up with a laugh and Dyson follows though he makes sure I see his '_we're going to talk about this' _look. The other two assholes follow them out—I guess they already have a list and were sitting on it.

"Something to say?" I ask glancing down at Hale who is just smirking ear to ear.

"Me? Naw girl, I'm good—just waiting for my marching orders."

"I need you to go downstairs and get the notes from Lauren, see if maybe she has some more info or some shit-we've obviously missed something and we need to come up with a better profile then what we got."

"So you want me to ask her to come up?"

"No." Yes, but it isn't a good idea sadly.

"Okay." He chuckles giving me this strange look as he stands.

"Just—we aren't seeing eye to eye at the moment."

"So?" his eyebrow rises. "I thought you wanted to see eye to waist anyway?"

"Ass." I laugh taking a seat at my desk, I guess Kenzi hasn't mentioned anything to him about our little fight this morning—I wonder if she mentioned it to Lauren.

I doubt it; people don't normally inform their loved ones they are stepping out of line to '_protect them'_.

* * *

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_**Monday**_

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_**Third Floor-Homicide Unit-4:22 p.m.**_

"So let me get this straight," I pause running my hand through my hair, tilting my head to the right to glace over at the time. A black rimmed clock just five inches from the ceiling with the backdrop of a dark gray wall—I don't know why but something about the clock just gave me chills—maybe it was the room in general. "You think that Cane is Jesus?" I take a deep breath trying to keep from laughing as I glance over my left shoulder at the boys who were watching through the glass.

Say what you wanted about my new attitude but getting pissed off and sending them out Dyson found his prime suspect only problem is that it's been seven and a half hours and all we've gotten from him is a repetitive rant about his serial killer worship.

"Do you believe in Jesus detective?"

"Which version, the walking on water one or yours?" I lean back in my chair, tapping my foot idly trying to keep myself not only calm but awake. "Cause I gotta be honest, not a fan of either."

"They're one in the same detective," he says it so flatly, so coldly, so matter a fact for a fraction of a second if I didn't know better I might have believed him. "And I am his disciple." He lifts his arms from his sides as he throws his head back.

"Right." Once again I glance over my shoulder—they must be laughing their asses off right now. "Hey, disciple boy." Slowly he brings his head back to down, chin to chest as he glares at me reminding me of a rabid dog. "Do you know what day of the week it is?"

"Time does not matter."

"Do you know where you are at?"

"I am everywhere and yet nowhere."

"Yeah, okay we're done here." A slight chuckle escapes me as I stand and force a smile at him before turning and walking toward the door.

"I've seen inside your soul detective," I look back at him, his eyes still cold but again there is this hit of coherence to him. "You are dark—"

"Yeah, thanks." I smirk pulling the door open but I can't help but to glance back at him.

"We'll be waiting with open arms."

"That's the guy you think is running around undetected stealing children?" I raise a brow as I ask Dyson while pulling the door shut, his attention still focused on Hendrix but I can tell he is pissed. "Think we've wasted enough time with him."

"He could still be our guy," Dyson whispers harshly, grabbing my wrist and holding me in place as I tried to pass.

"Almost eight hours and all he wants is an audience to talk about his jailed love muffin, guy doesn't even stay coherent for a solid hour and you think he is able to abduct, kill and dump not one or two but four children now while eluding not only the police but the CSIS too?" I snort and jerk my hand away. "If you honestly believe that than you are as delusional as him."

He is pissed because I am not backing down to him on top of the fact he was wrong and Lauren was right—he had wanted to make this a pissing contest and lost, that is his own damn fault.

I rub the back of my neck walking out from the narrow and creepy hall back into the '_office'_ finding all of the officers hard at work—guess being a bitch has its advantages.

My eyes catch Lauren and I can't help but smile, first time I've seen her today though my smile fades almost instantly.

She looks angry—scared-distraught—maybe all of them?

She is trying to rush down the opposite isle between the desks in a hurry without seeming like it but Evony is lazily following behind talking about something—what is wrong? I take the three steps from my desk to the corner of the next.

"Praise Jesus! He said we would meet again!" I hear from the newly familiar voice of Dyson's prime but wrong suspect.

I turn to my right to see him being escorted out by a uniform though the uni isn't pay attention nor following protocol so he isn't able to prevent him as he lunges at Lauren. Given the fact his hands are cuffed in front rather than behind his back he is able to grab a hold of her throat as she slams down on the desk all before the uni or even I have time to react.

Lunging forward myself, right arm going around his neck as my left hand grabs ahold of his shirt I pull him back and throw him backward expecting the uni to grab him as I turn my attention to Lauren-breaking protocol myself.

Also a costly mistake.

"Gun!" I hear Hale yell, my eyes going from him to behind myself at Hendrix who has managed to get the patrol officer's gun somehow.

I pull my gun as everyone else present has, Lauren and the now disarmed cop the exception.

"You don't wanna do this, put it down." Tamsin follows Hale, I see her out of the corner of my eye walking up near my desk to join Dyson.

I've never killed anyone—I've fired my gun and I shot two people before, once in the leg and the other in the arm but I've never shot to kill.

"You look so lovely Doctor—but the last time I saw you," his breathing is labored as he speaks, it's not as though he is scared though, honestly I don't think he knows we are here anymore. He closes his eyes and gets this sick smile. "All covered in blood and—why Doctor you were so divine then."

"Shoot him." Lauren says flatly, so flatly I'm sure I haven't heard her right. I glance over but it's only a glance, I can't look at her, not now. "Shoot him." She repeats this time looking over at me before turning back to him.

"Wh-what?" I let out under my breath, my eyes shifting from her then to him.

What is she seeing to order that? Am I missing something?

"Put it down or we will shoot, there is no way out of here." Dyson says moving forward as Hendrix starts stepping toward the hall.

"Shoot him." Lauren calls again more base to her voice but I don't glance at her this time, she is behind me now.

My mind rushing through everything I know on deadly force. When it's okay, when it's justified—should I be the one to take the shot?

"Now, now Doctor Lewis that ain't very nice to say such things." He stops at the division between our '_office_' and the hall. Every cop has a gun on him but all he can focus on is Lauren, I think I am still in line of fire for her but I can't look back, there is too many people, too much opportunity for something to go wrong, all it takes is a second—as he has just proven.

"Put it down." I order taking step out in front of Dyson, he still had a clear shot I know but something told me I needed to take charge of this—not to mention despite what Lauren was saying—I wasn't aiming to kill him. I wanted a peaceful resolution.

"Shoot him dammit!"

"Put it down and we can talk about this. It doesn't—"

Maybe I really am not a good cop because the voice in the back of my mind is screaming that I just froze but I don't seem to quite grasp the concept.

I feel my eyes narrow as I watch him fall to the ground in slow motion—at least it's slow motion to me. I don't so much see him as the top of his head as he falls to the ground, the gun sliding across the floor to hit my foot as it is knocked from his grip when he hits the floor. I watch as a pool of blood begins to form from beneath his face-my eyes zeroing in on the hole in the back of his head.

Huh?

I look up, my eyes locking with Agent Lachlan's instantly as he just stands there over Hendrix's body—cold and emotionless.

The last few seconds replaying on super speed.

I had been so caught up in my thoughts of what to do next and the sound of Lauren's voice repeating to shoot him that I hadn't heard the actual shot from Lachlan's gun. I was focused so hard on Hendrix I hadn't seen Lachlan's form come up behind him.

"Well, that took care of our problem." I hear Dyson snort from behind me as he picks up the service weapon and hands it back to the patrol officer.

I take a step back into the isle between the desks as I holster my weapon, eyes falling back to the body-I don't quite understand what just happened.

I look back up to find Lachlan staring at me—no—it's not at me.

I look back at Lauren who is staring right back at Lachlan, a sort of silent conversation being had between them.

How well are they supposed to know each other? Aren't CSIS agents not allowed to arrest let alone kill—are they even allowed to have guns? Why do I suddenly get the feeling they know each other more than a meeting at a conference?

I'm knocked out of my thoughts as I catch a glimpse of Lauren brushing passed me, passed the body, side stepping Lachlan and then racing down the hall.

It takes a second but I'm dashing off after her despite the fact I hear Evony call my name, only problem is Agent Dick-Head sidesteps to get in my way. He isn't stopping me for Evony, he's giving Lauren enough of a head start.

"Move before I throw your ass in jail." It's a threat, despite the fact CSIS wasn't supposed to have a lot of power they always seemed to have far more than anyone else.

"You don't understand the game you're playing at little girl." He whispers tilting his head down toward me. "You don't even know the players yet let alone the rules."

"You have five seconds to get out of my way." This time it isn't a threat, I will order for his arrest, yeah it won't stick but it'll prove a point.

He smirks like he sees something he likes, as if he is amused by all of this before stepping out of my way as I rush down the hall to the elevator, she's already on it—2ed floor-1st floor—LL—should have known she wasn't going to leave the building.

I press the button twice but the light isn't moving from LL—would she go as far as to stop the elevator?

Fuck it.

I go to door for the stairs walking fast but not running or even jogging-until I'm in the privacy of the stairway.

I deserve answers—whatever the hell is going on around here is getting out of hand.

"What was that?" I bark pushing in the double doors to the morgue.

"Go back upstairs." She barks right back, I catch her right as she is going into her office but now she doesn't move.

"Not till I get some answers."

"What answers do you need Bo?"

"I need plenty, like why is Lachlan carrying a gun? Why did he just splatter some guy's brains all over the floor without so much as batting an eyelash? Why do you two seem to know one another a lot better than a run in at a conference that you had no business being at? But most of all," I hesitate walking up half of the distance between us. "Why were you asking me to shoot him?"

"I wasn't."

"Lauren you looked at me and practically pleaded it."

"You're imagining things." She turns her back to me as she heads into her office, she pushes the door shut but I'm there to push it right back open before it clicks. "Get out of my office." She spins around to face me-this is a very different Lauren than I have seen before.

"Who was he?"

"You know who he was."

"No, who was he to you?" I may not be super-cop but I'm not stupid, not stupid enough to believe that this guy randomly knew shit about her, that he had this effect on her and was some stranger.

"You aren't my mother and you aren't my girlfriend Bo, you don't need to know everything."

"I am trying to be your damn friend." My voice rising, I never thought I'd see the day when not only was I genuinely pissed at her, not angry to cover up hurt but actually pissed but where I was yelling at her too.

"I don't need you to be my friend."

"You were yelling to kill him and someone who you obviously have a personal relationship with did just that. You don't think that will be mentioned in the investigation?" I lower my voice as I watch her maneuver behind her desk, angrily fidgeting with folders and papers spread over her desk.

"Jesus Christ Bo, are you really still this naïve?" she snaps glaring at me. "There will be no investigation beyond the scope of you and your room full of half-assed cops who never should have made detective making jokes and gossiping about what happened."

"Glad to know what your real feelings are."

"You have no idea what my real feelings are Bo, you don't even know your own feelings half of the time." Her tone is so harsh it's almost unrecognizable and had I not been witness to all of this I would have never believed it. "I can't," she starts after a solid minute of silence, my body already halfway turned to leave. "I can't tell you everything."

"Can't or won't?"

"There will be a day," she hesitates again, her tone back in that gentle and venerable tone she tended to get when we were discussing our pasts. "A time when I can tell you and when that comes if you still want to know—then I will tell you everything."

I don't say anything—what else is there to say honestly.

If I want answers I am going to have to get them myself.

* * *

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_**Tuesday**_

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.

_**Hale's Appartment-9:14 p.m.**_

"You know this is trouble." He says with that disapproving look he gets as he stares down at me and hands me a beer.

"Yeah well I seem to already be in it so I may as well know what the shit is going on." I take a swig before looking down at his coffee table which I have full of case files like his floor.

"How about we just kick back, down some more beers and decompress because in a few hours we gonna have to hit the ground running?" He smirks hopefully as he takes a seat next to me.

"Hale, there is some connect between this Cane case and the case we are working now."

"You gon' say this shit after reaming Dyson for Hendrix?"

"No—I mean yes. Hendrix had shit to do with this and I don't think Cane or any other followers have shit to do with this but I am saying the cases in general. There is something linking them."

"Shit." He lets out in between two large drinks before leaning forward and grabbing a file. "You do realize every three words is blacked out right?"

"I know, for some reason they are listed as confidential."

"Then how'd you get them?"

"They aren't so confidential they were pulled, it's basically some political b.s. going on right now." I take a drink while scooping up my starting file and handing it to him. "Look at victims one, two, three and four are all unblocked along with the first four hundred pages of the files, but then you get to victim five-everything and I mean everything is blacked out." I flip the pages for him as I continue talking. "Six is blocked and then not again until thirteen does it go total blackout, everything after that is highlighted in black."

"What about google?"

"See that's the thing there is hardly anything. I mean it's literally as if shit went silent there too which is fucking crazy to think about right?"

"Wait up, what about victim number forty-nine?"

I take a drink taking a moment to think, what was I to say? That was Cassidy, that was something Lauren told me in a moment of weakness and pain. But then again this was Hale, my best-friend if there was anybody I trusted it was him.

Not to mention I need answers and Lauren isn't helping me in that department.

But if she ever found out then-I take another drink and look at him as he just sits there waiting for an answer.

"Her name was Cassidy, she was the lead detective and—Lauren's girlfriend."

"Oh—shit." He lets out with a nod. "Well I'm gonna go get some food cause I guess we ain't sleeping tonight, huh?" he snorts handing me back the files as he gets up and reaches for his phone in his pocket.

* * *

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_**Wednesday**_

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_**Hale's Apartment 1:47 a.m. **_

"Hey, snoring beauty."

I hear his voice and it pulls me toward consciousness. I look up at him and he looks like a strung out kid on Christmas, sitting on the floor in the middle of an ocean of files looking over them all.

"What?"

"You said Cassidy was Lauren's girl right?" I nod despite the odd twinge of jealousy at his choice of words. "And you said she was the medical examiner on this right?" another nod as I sit up and try to crack my neck. "Then why isn't she in any of the files?"

"What?"

"I been reading while you been snoring, Lauren isn't mentioned in a single one of them."

"That's impossible." I reach out as he hands me a file I hadn't yet gotten to.

"The M.E. is listed as some guy named Archer Patel, Lauren is never once mentioned unless she is somewhere in the blackness."

"But why would she be edited out?"

"That's what I'm saying." He stands up as the sound of his phone vibrating across the kitchen table grabs his attention. "Hendrix was talking about ol' girl covered in blood which I thought he was just crazy at first but once you filled me in I thought well she should at least be mentioned in the incident report, somewhere but—" he trails off as he reaches his phone.

"She isn't though." I finish for him glancing over the folder but after a heavy silence fills the room I look back at him and he doesn't need to say it aloud I already know what the text says.


	5. Shadows

_**Chapter Five: Shadows**_

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_**(Bo's POV)**_

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_**Saint Andrew's Hospital-2:25 a.m.**_

"Is it true?" the words leave my mouth before I even decide to say them, my hands fidgeting as I pull off my gloves while making a dash down the long hall. I'm sure she didn't even hear me considering how far I was from her—how she doesn't bother to glance toward me. "Is it really true?" I repeat as I pass the double doors that are propped open, this time I know she hears me considering the way she stands.

"Yeah," she smiles for a moment nodding but it fades almost instantly. "It's true."

"Then what is it?"

"They rushed him into surgery," she draws a breath while glancing away from me. "He has severe hypothermia, class three blood loss along with a broken shoulder and mutilation of his right hand."

"Jesus," I let out shoving my gloves in my pockets.

It was a slip really, it happened from time to time. Not like I was calling on him for help or anything—it was just what people said in situations like this, I'm sure if this was another situation she would have given me shit considering how much shit I gave her back at the church for taking an easy on the priest.

"Something happened tonight—something went wrong." She glances back up at me. "The property owner was out with his dogs, said one of them just keep running and barking so he naturally followed thinking to find some teenagers looking to break in or something but—"

"He ended up interrupting our boy." I glance down the hall passed her as a page over the intercom fills the area—must not be too serious since everyone continues about their business as if not a care in the world, as if me and her aren't standing here trying to track down a child-killer running freely through the city. "I'm not the expert here but I thought guys like our boy—they cared about their ritual and their end game not about getting caught. Why run? Or why not kill the property owner and finish his kill which should be what matters most—why run and leave him?"

"You know Bo," she sighs and looks down the hall-away from me. "I honestly don't know. He isn't making sense anymore. He is all over the place, this isn't the typical serial killer." She sounds so frustrated not just at the situation but that she can't figure this out, that something actually has the upper hand on her—if it wasn't our killer I would take pleasure in her experiencing this sense of doubt and finally knowing what it feels like to not always know everything—but now I would give anything for her to be her normal smug and perfect self.

"Do we know who the kid is already, boy or girl?"

"Yes, his name is Luke Walker, white male, age six. His parents are on the way in; I already spoke to the doctor a little before you got here."

"And?"

"He says the chances of him pulling through are eight to one and the chances of him pulling through without some type of brain damage is nine to one."

"Shit." I sigh while taking a seat.

When I had gotten the call that the victim—Luke had been found alive, that he was rushed here I just stupidly assumed that maybe he would actually have a chance, a real chance at pulling through but—it was stupid to hope for that.

This asshole doesn't leave anyone alive and it would appear he is growing increasingly violent—but the question is why?

What is making him tick—what is driving him to kill-to switch up his victims-was this taunting us in the lamest way possible or was this something else-is there still something missing that we aren't seeing—that I'm not seeing?

Cautiously she takes a seat next to me but doesn't face me or even glance over, no she just stares at the floor as if she would look hard enough—long enough the answers suddenly would appear.

There is so much tension between us, hell you can practically see it. I'm sure to someone passing by we look like we're being forced together at gun point—there is so much that needs to be said—but now isn't the time.

I have so many questions especially after me and Hale's little discovery tonight but—I just keep reminding myself there will be a better time than now.

So instead of clearing the air we just sit here-waiting for news as if this poor little boy was our own son.

* * *

_**Saint Andrew's Hospital-3:55 a.m.**_

"Were the parents any help?" she asks watching me as I take my seat next to her and all I can manage in response is a shake of my head. "Same answers as all of the rest?"

"Never saw a thing, never heard a thing—same shit, different family."

"I just keep thinking how did he get caught?"

"He didn't, Dyson says they lost his trail almost immediately."

"No, I mean how did he let himself get caught by the property owner? I mean this guy gets in and out of homes in neighborhoods with houses side by side but somehow tonight he gets caught in the middle of the night by an old man? Doesn't make sense."

"Randomness of luck maybe." I shrug, I understand what she is saying but the question she is posing doesn't have an answer—at least not one we can figure out at this moment.

Chances are that's all this was, a strike of bad luck for him-not that it was any better for us.

"You believe in luck?"

"I don't know—maybe." Another shrug. "Maybe my mediocre education just didn't teach me a better word for it." I turn my head to face her. "But what I do know is that something happened tonight, not one something or even two but several some-things happened tonight to get this to play out the way it did."

"Does Detective Dennis actually have a theory?" she smirks, left eyebrow raised—it was always that damn left one.

"No," I shake my head and glance away—I didn't need to be laughed at again.

"Come on Bo, I can see the little hamster running around in there."

I stare at her with my eyes narrow trying to size her up—Dyson could be an asshole when I voiced what I thought with cases and honestly Lauren had her moments of making me feel like a child when talking to me but against my better judgment I begin forming my thoughts into words.

"The last kid who had signs of injuries fought back right, so it would be logical to assume that Luke did too and that's how his shoulder got broken. We know that this guy doesn't mutilate them nor sexually assault them so this hand mutilation—what are the chances that Luke scratched our guy or pulled some hair—something that gave him no other choice but to mutilate his hand. It would explain why he wasn't able to finish drowning him completely. Say—Luke did scratch him, our boy had to stop and improvise taking more time then he planned out and that's when Mr. Property-Owner came stumbling onto him. Say he did account for the property owner but not the dogs?"

"Who said you couldn't form a plausible theory." She says and it's cold, distant—she isn't herself—for the first time tonight I catch it.

I think she means the comment sort of lightheartedly, a sort of backhanded good job but there is this weight to the words, this—point to them that cuts a little deeper than any laugh that had ever come from Dyson.

My lips part to ask her what is wrong-to ask what exactly is going on in her mind because I know she is running through something, her attention is only halfheartedly here with me but instead I sit back in my seat silently licking my fresh batch of wounds as I wait for a text or appearance from the doctor.

* * *

_**Saint Andrew's Hospital-5:15 a.m.**_

"You know I have this dream," I speak leaning forward, elbows digging into my knees my first reaction is to sit back up but this new pain is helping keep me awake. "I'm standing on this dirt road and to my left there is a road and to my right a road." I glance over at her checking if she is still awake—just barely but she is. "Now obviously one would interpret it as being at a crossroads and having to pick one way or the other but the thing is I chose one way and I just end up back where I started—and the same with the other way. I just keep having this dream over and over and over again." I snort out a chuckle. "Crazy right?"

"Actually," she clears her throat and glances over at me holding my gaze. "I find it sad."

"Sad?" I dryly laugh. "I never would have expected that one. Crazy, odd, stupid—but never sad."

"It tells me that you feel no matter which choices you make in life you think you're just going to be stuck here in the same spot you've been." She clears her throat once more and looks to her left, down the hall and away from me once again. "The definition of insanity Bo, is repeating the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result."

"Is that last bit aimed at you or me?" I ask through a clenched jaw as I feel my eyes narrow, a subtle jab in response to her not so subtle one.

"It would appear it applies to us both wouldn't it?"

* * *

_**Saint Andrew's Hospital-7:05 a.m.**_

I watch from afar as the surgeon informs the parents their son didn't make it.

He tells them there was too much damage, some complications that I couldn't understand when he told me and Lauren—it didn't matter honestly what he said after informing us he had died. It didn't matter to me or Lauren what complications arose all that mattered was another child had died and we were powerless to stop it. All that mattered to those parents was that they had lost their son—right out of their own home without having any clue of it.

I glance down at my phone checking for an update but there is of course none—they had lost this guy's trial minutes after they arrived on scene and all night they were just chasing shadows—which seemed to be all we were doing now—chasing shadows.

All night we sat here telling each other—ourselves that he wasn't going to make it but we stayed because some part of us held out hope that he would be the one in ten billion that would pull through—chasing a shadow of hope. All night Dyson and Hale and all of them chased after a shadow of a man that occasionally I'm not even sure exists.

They named him The Montreal Boogeyman and Lauren pointed out how well it fit—maybe he was really that—a boogeyman—maybe if I was religious I'd believe that. Maybe if I was just a tad bit stupider I would believe that this was some demon or supernatural being out there and it would sooth my guilt that we have been helpless to stop him.

But the fact that I know Lauren is right now standing in that operating room with the body of a dead six year old while plastic wrapping his poor mutilated hand, bagging up all of his cut off clothes and trying to preserve any other evidence that might have been lost in an attempt to save his life tells me one thing and oddly enough it's that one thing that sooths me more than anything else ever could.

It tells me that this monster is nothing more than a man.

And a man I can catch-a man I can kill.

* * *

.

.

_**Thursday**_

.

.

_**Hale's Appartment-8:22 p.m.**_

_Clayton Paul-White Male-Age 7 (Laval-WENS)_

_Alexander Thomas-White Male-Age 7 (Laval-SUN)_

_Arron Samuel-White Male-Age 9 (Montreal-WENS)_

_Rebecca Brennen-Hispanic Female-Age 4 (Montreal-SUN)_

_Luke Walker-White Male-Age 6 (Montreal-WENS) _

_Why the difference in victim number four? Why Sun and Wen only? Why isn't the abduction or detaining times the same? Why the difference in ages? Why only and ALWAYS six miles apart? Why always drowning? Why always children with only two names?_

_Sexual-NO. Rage-Not likely. Religious aspect? Internalized hate?Non-sexual-sexual motive? Just a Sick fuck…?_

.

.

"Hey Hemmingway," I glance up from my paper at Hale who is giving me a '_what the fuck'_ look. "Mind answering the damn door once and a while if you plan to keep living on my couch?" He bitches while going toward the front door.

"I'm not living on your couch."

"The cushion has a Bo shaped ass-print that ain't ever coming out at this point."

"Yeah, yeah." I wave him off, looking back down to my paper as I being to write again.

"Oh boy," I hear him let out but I don't look up—I'm busy trying to figure this out—or at least come up with something beyond having shit. "I'm gonna—go—upstairs—put some earphones on." I look up at his weird nervousness but I don't see him or the weird expressions I know he is making, what I do see though is Lauren standing at the edge of the couch.

"Lauren," I let out as I scoot up against the arm of the couch and pull my legs up so she can sit. "Did something happen?" I glance over at my phone on the table, but I don't see the little blinky-light.

"No," she shakes her head and looks down at her lap. "I honestly don't know why I'm here."

"Oh,"

"I mean I know my train of thought, Kenzi mentioned that Hale mentioned that you two were working on the case and there I was working on it and then I was hungry so I went out to pick up something and then I ended up here."

"Oh."

"Bo, please stop saying that."

"Sorry, yeah." I shake my head and sit up completely. "I'm sorry I just am a little caught off guard at the moment given how things have been between us I didn't really expect to see you outside of the office." I clear my throat and glance behind her to make sure Hale is gone, which he is—he has already made it clear he wants no part in the drama that is me and her—I don't blame him he has his own with Kenzi.

"Should I not have come?" her eyes find mine and as normal—I lose my train of thought.

"No, its fine—really I think it's good. I was beginning to go stir crazy staring at the same piece of paper for three hours."

"Interesting piece of paper." She smirks and reaches out waiting for me to hand over my hard labor—I'm hesitant but I do it anyway.

What's another couple of laughs at my expense, anyway?

"This is actually a very good skeleton of a logic-map."

"Logic-map?" I chuckle despite my efforts to hold it in. "Sorry, just never heard a doodle pad called that."

"Doodles are drawings."

"Well excuse me Mrs. Doodle Expert," another chuckle escapes as I lightly nudge the side of her thigh with my foot. "You really think it's a good start?"

"I do, looks similar to my own although," she pauses to look up at me. "I don't write sick-fuck on them."

"Well, had to add a bit of my own touch on it."

"Of course." This time it's her who chuckles, it's nice to hear that sound again—it's been a while.

"Did you want a beer?" I blurt out as I felt an awkward silence beginning to sneak its way in.

"You know," she says it heavily as she places the paper down on the table and I'm sure she is about to run for the hills—I'm beginning to learn what that looks like from her. "I would really love one—"

"But?"

"But?" she chuckles as her brow rises.

"Yeah, what's the but?"

"T—there isn't a but." She looks hesitant now, wondering if there should be one. "Is this too awkward?"

"It's very awkward," I laugh nervously as I stand. "But not so awkward that I would turn down a fresh pair of eyes on my logic slash doodle map slash pad."

"Plus the beer will help too." She says looking over her shoulder at me as I make my way to the fridge.

"Was I that obvious?" I chuckle again as I continue on my way, I know she didn't come here just for notes and I know she wanted—wants to leave but yet here she sits on the couch waiting for my return.

What was her game?

* * *

.

.

_**Friday**_

.

.

_**Lexington Commons-10:47 p.m.**_

"Bo?" her brow furrow, she looks confused and slightly bothered I'm here and for a moment I wonder if she already has company.

I know for a fact Kenzi has gone to Hale's and that was why I was supposed to be going to the office to put in some extra hours with Dyson but somewhere after two extra left turns and a right I found myself sitting outside of her building. I told myself I was going to drive away after the stupid love song finished but after three more I found myself walking up the building's stairs to her apartment and after five minutes of telling myself to walk away I found myself knocking on her door.

"I'm having a really shitty day." I blurt out and she tilts her head to the right, this inquisitiveness to her features but still she doesn't step aside to let me in. "I got into a fight with Dyson and reprimanded by Evony all before twelve. Then I got jumped by a suspect, I think I broke a rib—I've lost my iPod charger and me and Hale got into a fight." I take a little but much needed breath, considering I managed to get that all out in one long sentience."

"Did you really equate losing your iPod charger to everything else that's happened?"

"I was just listing shitty shit that happened to me today, they also gave me chicken instead of stake tacos for lunch but—they ended up being really good so I don't think I could add it to my list." I give this little shrug and I think I'm pouting—it feels like it but I can't be sure.

"Why did you get reprimanded?"

"Sh—she found out about my incident." I answer softly, the thought of turning around and leaving becoming more and more present as I realize she still hasn't stepped aside to let me in nor has she stepped out into the hall to join me.

She's in scrub bottoms and a white, string-strapped tee-shirt which is obviously for sleeping but she is decent enough to allow me in without feeling awkward—so why isn't she?

"Dyson?"

"Y-yeah, he isn't quite so happy with my recent attempt at authority."

"And Hale?"

"We're having a disagreement about—work stuff." It's not a lie, I'm sure the Cane case is connected in some way to this case so it's not a lie—completely.

"Did you go to get checked out?"

"No," I shake my head and glance down at her bare feet—she has cute toes. "I'm fine."

"If you're fine then why are you here?"

"I um," that was a gazillion dollar question right there.

I had a nasty fight with Dyson this morning but it wasn't like it was the first time—we'd just normally fuck it out but for some reason the thought of fucking him now—of letting him touch me seemed—fake and wrong and dirty in a way.

I had been reamed a new one by Evony but she would have been over it by now and the best way to smooth shit over with her was to make her look good, putting in extra hours did that so I had a nice and comfy seat waiting for me attached to a desk full of paperwork to do just that but it just didn't hold the same level of comfort I was looking for. A pat on the head from her because I was putting in triple overtime wasn't the kind of affection I was yearning for.

Despite the fact that Hale suddenly wanted to drop this whole Cane connection and that the fight had turned pretty brutal I know I could have just as easily returned to his couch—my temporary home. I was always welcomed and it really did have a feel of home to it but the comfort that a brother who was preoccupied with his girlfriend who hates me was not the comfort I needed-or wanted either.

I could have gone to the hospital to get checked out but besides the pain I was fine really.

I could have gone to a bar and found a one night stand but—the thought of that repulsed me—more than normal.

There were a million things I could have done that would have been smarter than ending up here on her doorstep looking like a lunatic. A million things I could have done that didn't include the level of stupidity that I was beginning to reach with what I was about to do.

There were a million and one things I could have done that were smart-but what I actually do doesn't even make the list of a million and a half smart things to do.

She fixes to say something-to ask me something I'm sure but the words are drowned out—or rather forgotten as I take one big step forward. My hands cupping her cheeks as my lips cover hers.

They're parted considering she was going to say something, it would have been easy access for me—so easy to take advantage but instead I just keep my lips on hers, eyes closed hoping that I didn't just make the biggest mistake of my life.

She isn't responding and quickly I feel this rush of fear, of pain—of regret ripping through me as I pull back, my eyes opening to meet hers.

Her eyes, they're so dark and unreadable it excites me just as much as it scares me. Her eyes were pretty but in all honesty they were just eyes, I was never one of those people who found them to be anything special—until her, it wasn't their color but their depth that drew me in. Her eyes were—enchanting, just a glance and I found myself getting lost in them—now was no different.

"Lauren I—"

Her lips crash into mine so hard it hurts—for a moment.

Her hands hold my face momentarily before jumping to my shoulders sliding under the jacket and sliding it down my arms ripping my embrace away. I hear the click of the buttons hitting the floor just as her fingers are at my waist loosening my belt, mere moments later a thud as my gun hits the ground.

This kiss is so different than our first, it's hungry and ravenous but what stands out most of all is that she is in control.

I'm not sure if she is leading us or I am but we are quickly moving through the apartment heading for the couch, her hands ripping open my first shirt and sliding it off of me as she had done my jacket.

Subtle moans escaping from both of us as we manage to continue the same kiss we started with—she was surprisingly skillful and flexible.

I feel us come to a stop, her legs hitting the arm of the couch just as her hands begin sliding underneath my undershirt, tiny nails being dragged down my stomach—shit.

I tilt my head back causing her eyes to fly open.

"We—I can't do this h—"

"Oh-yeah." She breaths out, nodding excessively as this look of guilt washes over her gorgeous features. "I am—sorry I just—and—"

"N-no Lauren," I laugh softly, my right hand moving to cup her cheek. "I just—don't," I hesitate as I force my eyes away from hers down to her lips, this wave of heat filling my cheeks. "I don't want our first time—or our only time to be on the couch or floor like something cheap and," I trail off again suddenly feeling completely stupid.

"O—okay." She whispers after a moment and before I can look up she already has my hand in her own.

She doesn't say a word—neither do I.

I wish I knew exactly what was happening—was this a dream—it had to be because this was-this was amazing and scary and unpredictable and seemingly impossible yet here I was being led up her stairs.

I can't lie—I am scared for so many reasons.

Normally this was the part I knew, the part I was good at. In fact when we first met this was all I wanted—from her in general yes but it was all I wanted to do because I knew that then she would be at my '_mercy_'—they all were—after all this was all I am good for.

Right?

I'm oddly and painfully aware of every step we take, my heart racing a little more with each—what was going to happen? What did I want to happen? I hadn't prepared for this reaction—honestly who could prepare for this reaction?

Could she feel the way I do-do I even know how I feel?

Somewhere between my last thought and now I must have lost track of reality because I find her hand leaving mine as she turns around—we're just three steps passed her doorway and I'm sure I see just as much fear in her eyes as I feel.

Why is she so beautiful—why is she so perfect?

She looks hesitant now, like a deer staring down a hunter and that sudden rush of courage from earlier returns just as abruptly as it had before.

My lips on hers, tongue slipping passed her defenses with little protest. She was an amazing kisser, amazing enough to pull me toward the edge of bliss with nothing more—I wonder if she could bring me **over** it with nothing more—but there is this little voice in the back of my mind reminding me that this could very well be a onetime chance so I can't waste it on games.

I need to know what her body feels like, I need to feel her beneath me—on top of me. I need to hear her moans when not muffled by my mouth—hear my name. I need to taste every inch of her—see it to memorize it like the work of art it was.

It's another hungry and passionate kiss—both of us '_fighting'_ for dominance and God was it mind-blowing.

I'm not as shell-shocked as I was at first. My own hands running up the outsides of her thighs and under her shirt—this woman and her subtle curves were going to drive me insane.

I give her tongue a playful nip as I lean back and pull her shirt up over her head in one swift movement, tossing it behind me as my lips fall back against hers—problem was the sound of glass shattering.

I look over my shoulder at the dresser, her tossed shirt having hit something—a candle maybe—whatever it is I just broke it.

"Shit, Lauren I'm sorry I'll replace it I—"

My labored and only half sincere words once again cut off by her lips, her hands guiding my face back toward her.

"I—don't care." She breaths against my lips in between teasing pecks.

The thought of the broken glass on the dresser leaving my mind as she begins unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans while we begin stumbling backward toward her bed. Somehow she manages to turn us so she is guiding me—not that she wasn't already. My jeans falling to the floor, a slight stumble as I step out of them and my shoes in one motion but the way my hands are gripping her hips and hers my back it's only a slight stumble one that's washes away with the sound of a moan.

Her hands travel slowly down my bare arms, dragging the tips of her tiny nails and my skin feels like it's on fire—my entire body feels like it's on fire.

Her room is dark only the pale moon light seeping through the blinds giving it an equally romantic as eerie feel, the backs of my legs pressing into the edge of her bed, it hurts but not enough to make me pull away—I don't think anything could make me pull away from her at this moment.

She's enjoying her _'torturous'_ actions and its effect on me—I can tell by how teasing her tongue is now.

Something has changed in the air—maybe as if a silent agreement or acknowledgement that we're going through with this and there is no need to try and out passion the other—no need to try and pull the other to the edge as quickly as possible because we both know we're in this together—equally willing and wanting.

Her dark, glistening eyes are peering into mine, her features very serious as her hands drift away from mine and go to my waist. First she slides them under the bottom of my bra and then she dips them in the hem of my underwear and I can't help but to gasp. She doesn't pull them down or go any further just grips a hold of them, my lips part further to protest but she takes it as an invitation, her tongue slipping passed effortlessly to begin exploring the depths of my mouth.

My response is halfhearted at first but I'm weak to her, I've always been for some unexplainable reason.

The kiss is long and deep, passionate and hungry it brings me back to our kiss from down stairs. Our lips only part for seconds at a time just enough to get air each time the kiss picking up where it paused, each second the kiss growing to something I can't even describe anymore.

Not because I lack the vocabulary this time but because I've never felt this before.

Her hands roaming so freely-it feels amazing. The kiss feels amazing—everything was oddly amazing.

I grab her hips and spin us around so she's being pressed against the bed. I'm holding her firmly not to the point of pain but enough that it stops her attempt from trying to lead us onto the bed, enough that it holds her in place.

When her hands reach my waist again they hold firm, this time when we don't go for another kiss but instead as we slowly part our eyes open.

"I need to know that this isn't about you getting over Dyson." Her tone is suddenly firm again, eyes still dark and intense but differently—honestly I forgot he existed—I forgot anything but her existed in this moment.

"No," I whisper out, eyes running over her face to end up back where they started. Reaching up as I cup the back of her neck, my fingers buried in silky soft strands of hair that smelled just as intoxicating as the rest of her. Honestly maybe I didn't forget him or the rest of the world for that matter—maybe I just wanted her to be all that existed. "This is about us."

The two of us fall right back into another passionate, earth shattering kiss all the while she turns us once more and guides us down onto the bed before immediately moving atop of me.

It's obvious the woman LOVED it on top.

She leans down kissing the top of my jaw before her lips rest ever so lightly over my ear whispering so softly, so gently that I'm not completely sure what is being said.

My body falling still for a moment trying to make sense of the whisper and when Lauren pulls back up a bit staring down at me I forget all about it and remember nothing more than a need to touch this woman.

God knows when the next time I would get another chance.

Taking a deep breath I reach up intertwining my arms around her neck pulling her down into a kiss that was dangerously close to pushing the boundaries of my self-control. The kiss so deep and probing we were discovering surprisingly unfamiliar depths within each other's mouth—something I thought impossible at this point at this point.

Lauren is the first to moan into the kiss, at first it was soft and still had traces of innocence though as the passion built in the way it always seemed to do between us and my hands began to ran freely up and down her back while she skillfully rested the lower half of her weight from her stomach down against my lower stomach and heated center-it quickly turned into something much more feverish.

Hands sliding down the arch of her back until I reach the start of her pants, giving them the best pull down I can before I pull my legs back and use my feet to do the rest. Another moan filling the air maybe from her at the way I arched up against her body or maybe it was from myself for the same reason—maybe it was both of us.

I keep my legs arched up to keep my body as close to hers as possible but she takes it as an invitation as her mouth drops to my neck and she throws one leg over mine straddling it—I know this moan is mine.

Her own thigh pressing so hard against me it hurts—in the best way possible.

She is rocking against my thigh or really the starting of my pelvic bone—not that it matters much. I wrap my left leg around her waist bringing her down harder atop of me as I arch up with every rhythmic movement of hers.

Every moan earned a mixture of pain and pleasure of longing and need—of love.

I push the last from my mind as my arms wrap around her and pull her down tighter against me doing nothing for the pain but I'm close—I know she is too and I just want to feel her—hold her as close as possible when she cums for me.

If this was a onetime thing then I don't want to forget a single moment of it—a single feel or touch or kiss or sound—nothing.

It's not long that I find her biting down on my collar bone as her body begins to tremble, my hands going into her hair as my own mouth finds her neck.

My own attempt doing nothing to muffle my screams of ecstasy.

It was the first time I ever came with someone before—I think the first time I ever really experienced that rush that I've heard so much about.

I just find myself laying here, trembling beneath her as my lips stay on her skin just resting there as I try to bring my mind back to reality.

Suddenly I feel her beginning to pull back and I do the only thing I know to do to stop her—I flip us, my hands on the small of her back trapped underneath her.

"I—I wasn't leaving I just had to shift." She whispers, eyes dancing over my face as if every insecurity is written out as an open book for her to read.

It would have been easy to assume I just wanted to continue fucking—having sex—making love—which ever was the proper term for us but she knew what was hidden underneath it—she always knew what was hidden underneath every action of mine. She always seemed to know just what I really felt and that is terrifying.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" my own whisper escaping as I stare into her eyes getting lost in them, I know she is blushing and it's adorable but I can't seem to tear my eyes away from hers.

"You're sweet." She smiles softly, hands resting on my hips.

"No I'm not." I say it firmly, tilting my head down grazing the tip of her nose with my own playfully. "I'm just honest.

* * *

.

.

_**Saturday**_

.

.

_**Lexington Commons-3:59 a.m.**_

Heavy eyelids flutter back open at the sound of—something?

I lean up on my arm and glance over at the clock, shit we've only been asleep ten minutes?

I glance down at the tiny snores that catches my attention, it's almost not a snore so much as a soft, heavy breathing—it's really cute.

If I was on speaking terms with God I would have thanked him for this—for her but I'm not so I'll just have to be thankful in general.

I swallow at the dryness in my throat and I'm really tired enough to ignore it but—it's annoying. Glancing back up from her at the bathroom door which is shut I debate trying to sneak in and get a handful of water but the light or the sound of the door or the sound of the water might wake her.

My eyes shift to the bedroom door which was still wide open.

Sighing to myself I look back down at her with a little smile and place a quick, light kiss to her temple before sliding out of the bed and scooping up my bra and underwear on the way out—I know Kenzi is with Hale but she had a tendency of coming back early, last thing I need is for her to see my butt-naked standing in her kitchen drinking her orange juice—she was almost as territorial about food as she was about her sister.

I feel like an idiot with this huge smile on my face as I quickly slip back into my underwear while making a dash for the kitchen, I want so much to get back up there before she wakes up. I want just a little more time to hold her, to admire her because when she wakes—I honestly don't know what to expect.

Running my hands over my face and then through my hair I try to pull myself to a better state of consciousness—it doesn't really work.

I pull the fridge open and search for something worth drinking, a chuckle escaping me as my eyes find the orange juice.

Screw it.

Smirking I pull the carton out take a drink, glancing over my shoulder at the annoying beeping. It's her computer next to a stack of folders which her glasses rest upon and a half drank glass of wine—explains why she seemed busy earlier.

I shake my head before taking another drink and place it back in its spot—Kenzi will never know.

I start back toward the stairs but the blinking light and continuous beeping grabs my attention, I know I shouldn't snoop but this might be case related after all we haven't really had our phones. It's not like I'm going to start going through shit, just a quick glance to make sure it's not one of those computer-video-call things.

I glance at the screen looking for something that would say missed call or some shit, considering the screen is on and I'm not touching it—doesn't really feel like snooping.

.

.

_**REPLY**__**-**__**FORWARD**__**-**__**DELETE**__**-**__**REPORT SPAM**__**-**__**FURTHER OPTIONS**__**:**_

_**From: LawManL210**_

_**To: DrLaw613**_

_**Re: DRBEBTH**_

_**Received: 20 Minutes Ago**_

I know you're busy running around with your new girlfriend but I need a status report, PMM is waiting.

.

_**From: LawManL210**_

_**To: DrLaw613**_

_**Re: DRBEBTH**_

_**Received: 2 Days Ago**_

Report received per both cases. I have chosen to leave out the incidents pertaining to you and subject bravo-alpha out. You can thank me later.

.

_**REPLY: ERROR-MISSING**_

.

_**From: LawManL210**_

_**To: DrLaw613**_

_**Re: DRBEBTH**_

_**Received: 3 Days Ago**_

Are you home? Personal and dummy are unresponsive, we need to speak.

.

_**REPLY: ERROR-MISSING**_

_**RECEIVED: ERROR-MISSING**_

_**REPLY: ERROR-MISSING**_

_**RECEIVED: ERROR-MISSING**_

_**REPLY: ERROR-MISSING**_

_**RECEIVED: ERROR-MISSING**_

_**REPLY: ERROR-MISSING**_

.

_**From: LawManL210**_

_**To: DrLaw613**_

_**Re: DRBEBTH**_

_**Received: 30 Days Ago**_

Need profile per DRBRTH ASAP PMM is requiring briefing.

.

.

I swallow the lump in my throat, eyes running over the screen, the same ERROR messages almost on every single sent and received message-I don't blame her why she didn't bother to delete the ones left—they say nothing.

Must have been what I interrupted—her getting rid of evidence—of—something.

Idly I move the mouse over the screen my intention to close the window but just as odd as this laptop's OS is a series of options pop up that is new.

I move it over the error messages waiting for it to come up again but it only seems to pop up on select files, several that have no interest to me, just e-mails from this LAWMAN asking where she is and so on but the option to recover appears for the one from thirty days ago, the one asking for a briefing.

Without hesitation, without caution of getting caught or further breaking my own heart I click it.

_**RECOVER. **_

Takes a solid thirty seconds or so but it comes up.

.

.

_**From: DrLaw613**_

_**To: LawManL210**_

_**Re: DRBEBTH**_

_**Received: 30 Days Ago (RECOVERED)**_

_**DT:**_ Is suspiciously sociopathic, shows signs of feelings but in my professional opinion it's a decent acting job. Subject has no effect on me unlike the remaining subjects and this obviously is a source of tension, whether or not it is for personal reasons or suspicion of my lack of willingness to be a team player remains to be seen.

_**DR&DB:**_ Both average intelligence, followers, crude and brutal but not good for this, my professional opinion is to remove from focus completely and move to reprimand when all is said and done, I would not be opposed to take either or both of their badges.

_**HS:**_ Type 3A-Classified.

_**TV:**_ Type A follower and participation is not under full understanding of subject's actions, shows signs of being a decent cop, removal of badge is subjective, my opinion is to desk her.

_**BD: **_Shows potential but is far too comfortable working beneath it, if subject will ever peek remains to be seen. Has several emotional issues which makes her an easy target to manipulation such as a mild-level of internalized homophobia, sever levels of guilt for events out of her control, needs constant approval and attention—sexual or otherwise. Only stable relationship is with HS whether or not it has been/is sexual is a mystery. Relationship with DT is only long term and commitment subject has experience with which doesn't say much for either of their characters. Highly co-dependent, is by far the weakest link of the group. Master mind of operation no but very possibly a key-player and possibly the best way in but I **highly** recommend against it, subject is too unstable to attempt a relationship of any kind—risk factor deemed too high.

_**EM:**_ Possibly the hardest sale but I believe would be the best source, DT would let guard down for a night but afterward would most likely shut down. EM may be harder to get close to but I believe would be the easiest to **remain** close to.

If operation is to continue as an UC-OP then it is my professional opinion to remove myself and place someone better suited.

.

_**From: LawManL210**_

_**To: DrLaw613**_

_**Re: DRBEBTH**_

_**Received: 30 Days Ago (RECOVERED)**_

UC-OP remains a green-light, you are to remain in place. EM is a red-light, BD is a green-light: establish a relationship and wait for further instruction.

.

_**From: LawManL210**_

_**To: DrLaw613**_

_**Re: DRBEBTH**_

_**Received: 10 Days Ago**_

Your request for OP termination has been denied, you are to proceed. For the last time, establish and nurture a relationship with SUB-BD before you are reported for insubordination.

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"Bo?"

I hear my name pulling me back to reality; though honestly at the moment MY reality apparently seems to be a lie.

I look up sniffling back the feeling of tears.

It's all been a lie-everything has been a lie.


	6. To New Beginnings

_**Chapter Six: To New Beginnings**_

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_**(Lauren's POV)**_

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I just stare at her like a deer in headlights, my left hand clenching the sheet to my body—fist balled so tight it hurts.

I don't know what she is thinking for the first time since I've met her and that scares me. It scares me that I just spent hours making-love to this woman and now-suddenly I can't tell a single thought running through her mind nor what the unreadable expression on her face means.

It would be stupid of me to say she is hurt—I know this—the same would go for angry but the real question is: how angry?

I feel sick and dizzy but mostly sick—near disgusted.

Abruptly a single thought comes to mind-my cover is blown.

I keep my eyes locked with hers but my mind has checked out as it remembers where her gun is—still holstered on the floor ten six steps back and then twelve to my left. My gun on the other hand is all the way up the stairs, down the hall and hidden in underneath my nightstand. My backup in the back of the freezer wrapped in plastic, even if I did manage to make it there before her there wasn't enough time to unwrap it as well.

Would she actually go for it?

"Th—this is why you're here—why you're with me?" her broken whisper filling the apartment, her hand gesturing toward the computer, there was no point in denying it now. She had seen the proof but the thing was—she had no idea what **this** was.

"Just hear me out," the words leave my mouth before I can actually form a logical thought. "We have your best interest in heart-I have your best interest in heart."

"We—whose we?" she looks away from me as tears form—I can't see them from this far but I can hear them in her voice.

"Bo."

"You were sent here?" she rephrases the question, I think she is in a form of shock whether that is good for me or not remains to be seen.

"Bo let me explain—"

"Where you sent here?" she raises her voice cutting me off and taking two steps forward, all I can do is nod. "So what I read isn't some sick joke or a hallucination or-we've been—you and me it's all been—"

"Look, it's not what you think." I take a step forward becoming all too aware of the fact that I am only in a sheet as I step on a corner of it causing my balance to falter momentarily.

"You have no idea what I think and less about what I feel," she snaps and glances away from me as she storms passed—it doesn't matter that she looks away though I still catch a glimpse of her tear moistened cheek. "Or you could not have done this to me." Her tone harshening as she leans down going for her pile of discarded clothes—clothes that were discarded by me.

I have to shake the flashes of the night's events away as rational and self-preservation come back into play.

For a moment I'm frozen—the thought crossing my mind-would she actually do it?

But she just throws on her shirt and then her jacket, picks up her belt and realizes there is no pants attached to it. She storms passed me again this time jogging up the stairs and I just stand here frozen, what was I doing?

Do I go after her and try and stop her? If I do what are my reasons? Should I detain her? I know the protocols for this but do I actually act them out? Do I really think she would try and hurt me? Why am I so scared? What's this pain in my chest? Am I having a panic attack or this hurt? Was I actually stupid enough to care about her this much?

Dammit Lauren, get ahold of yourself.

I reach out with my free hand trying to stop her but she jerks away from me still making a dash for the door—she could have been in track.

"I—look I'm sorry. Goddammit Bo, I'm trying to protect you." If she only knew how true that was, how many things I've left out of my reports or how many times I've turned a blind eye to things that make her look guilty. "I—I haven't done anything wrong."

She stops, hand on the doorknob of the half ajar door. Spinning around she begins storming right back toward me and now I recognize the emotion written over her features, its anger—not just anger but borderline rage.

I don't move this time, it's not that I am frozen or even wondering what she is going to do—if she was going to do something violent she would have already done it.

At least I think so.

"You allowed me into your bed because you were told to." She nearly growls her words but the yelling has stopped. "Everything about that is wrong." She holds my stare just for a moment, just long enough that she knows I can see the rage—the pain before she spins right back around heading for the door.

"Bo," her name is an unconscious whisper as I watch her walk out not even bothering to slam my door.

My first instinct should have been to call this in, to report this—her—my cover being blown—to call Kenzi and tell her to get out of there before he finds out but my actual first instinct is to run after her.

Problem with that was that I didn't have clothes on-actually that was one of the smallest problems with this situation but the fact of the matter was that was the only one I cared about at the moment.

* * *

_**Monroe Street-5:27 a.m.**_

I take a deep breath, right hand behind my back gripping a hold of my weapon as I take slow and cautious steps up the old, dusty and unstable steps.

This place was a certified shit-hole in a shit neighborhood which is why she was able to afford it on a detective's salary. It had been named _The Club_ house for years so it was well known thus why so cheap, I guess she was expecting to fix it up at some point. The agency thinks she is using it for her illegal activities but—I think it was just her attempt at starting a new life that she once again gave up on.

I had called Kenzi and she said Bo hadn't returned there, I had called Evony and she said Bo hadn't come in yet either but Dyson was there so that only left me with one option—her little hide away. Actually she could have been at The Dal, but I'm not stupid enough to go in there now without sufficient backup—if Bo had spilled already to Trick—to anyone there I would have been killed on sight—her blessing or not.

I didn't bring my weapon so much for her but for what situation might arise in the wake of this little situation I've managed to get myself into and again I wasn't even gripping it now because I was expecting some shoot out with her—I just wasn't sure the noises I am hearing are actually her, after all this place doesn't even have actual walls let alone proper locks to keep out the less desirable members of the community.

I pull my weapon at the creaking of wood—but what worries me is that this person is trying to be quiet.

I hadn't even been to a range in almost three months but let's face it I've pulled the trigger more than enough times to remember how to do it.

The front door is open and just as I'm trained to do—one foot in front of the other slowly and cautiously, listening for the sounds coming from within. This only works for a bit considering I'm two steps away from running out of wall to hide behind.

Drawing a deep breath I push everything from my cluttered mind except for training.

Taking a big step out into the living room area weapon pointed at the exact spot I assessed the noises were coming from and I'm right down to a tee—if I wanted I had a clean headshot.

_Problem number one: I find myself staring down a gun as well._

_Problem number two: It's Bo._

I don't lower my weapon but neither does she.

_Problem number three: She is angry, in pain and not thinking clearly._

_Problem number four: She is a crooked cop and my job is to not only take her badge but put her away._

Our eyes meet the way they always seemed to do, like it was just their nature to find one another but this time it's not intense because we're dancing around how we feel—not because we've mastered the art of flirting without ever having to say a word but because we're trying to figure out what the other is going to do.

_Problem number five: She won't shoot to hit me—just to get me to shoot._

_Problem number six: It's Bo. _

"What are you? RCMP? FBI? CIA? DEA? ATF?"

"Canadian Security Intelligence Service."

"Otherwise known as CSIS-I thought so," she snorts out through a cold chuckle. "Let me guess Lawman is Agent Dick-Head?" I give a slight nod, eyes trying to see through the darkness of the apartment trying to assess whether or not her finger is actually on the trigger. "I knew there was something off between the two of you—DoctorLaw." Another icy chuckle as she tightens her jaw. "Are you even a fucking doctor?"

"Of course I am."

"Don't fucking stand there and say of course like I can believe **anything** you've told me!"

"What—you think I'm just randomly cutting up bodies in the basement?" I feel my eyebrow shoot up as I take a step to the right.

"I don't know what to think when it comes to you Lauren-not after last night." Her features scrunch, titling her head away from me for a moment. "So tell me, how much did you get for last night?"

"Wh—what?"

"While I was waiting for you to show I was doing some research," she drops her left hand down to her pocket and pulls out her phone. "Saw in an underground forum, they said you guys get a bonus if you have to fuck a mark." She tosses the phone down on the floor near me. "So I'll ask again, how much?"

"Two thousand for a female and two thousand-five hundred for a male." I have to swallow at the wave of disgust building within me, this was something I knew as I knew every other aspect of my job but there was something about saying it aloud—when pertaining to her that disgusted me to no end.

"Two thousand—little over half of my check for the month and you make it in a hour." another snort as she nods. "Well sorry your bonus is so small; maybe you can bump it up to two point five since you did have to suffer through kissing me the other night."

_Problem number seven: I let myself care._

_Problem number eight: I let myself get involved._

"You want honesty?" I ask drawing in a deep breath.

"Can you give it?"

"Before tonight, my bonus stood at ten thousand." I whisper and let my eyes fall to her feet, I don't know why I'm admitting to it—a huge part of my job was to never let anything slip but here I was voluntarily giving up information that was damaging to myself.

Key word-voluntarily.

"Evony?" she says it as a question but something tells me she already knows the answer, the e-mails gave her everything she needed to know—now it was just connecting the dots which practically already had the lines drawn to them for her.

_Problem number nine: It's Bo._

_Problem number ten: I let myself fall for her. _

"I'm not wearing a vest." I say softly, a flick of my finger and the clip is falling to the floor with a loud thud. Beginning to lowering my weapon I remove the round in the chamber before dropping them both to the floor. "If you really want to shoot me Bo-then do it."

"You know Lauren, honestly I always knew this day would come." An icy chuckle escapes her as she reaches around her back pulling her cuffs off her belt and tosses them near her phone. "I just always thought it would be FBI or RCMP or DEA—never once did I think the fucking CSIS would get involved. I know what you guys do—"

"You know nothing about what we do—about what I do." I say coldly taking a step forward.

"You're probably right, stupid me." She gives this little shrug, tears in her eyes. "I did see **a lot** of torture claims though—and considering your little whoring bonus is true, I guess I'll just have to assume those claims are too."

"Not all but some." SHUT UP LAUREN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! "Never on our own soil though."

"Oh how—sweet of you?" she snorts and shakes her head. "I might not know exactly what you do but I know why you're here." Her voice breaking slightly as she pulls her badge from her belt, gripping it tightly for a moment as if saying goodbye before tossing it down next to her phone.

"No Bo-you don't know why I'm here."

The voice in the back of my mind screams at me to shut up—it screams a lot of things at me at the moment but for the first time in a long time it's not the voice in my head I'm listening to but the one in my heart.

"It was never loaded." She whispers as she drops her weapon on the floor and kicks it over.

"You're a dirty cop Bo, you make deliveries for your grandfather that are questionable, you bend the rules to the point they should break, you have so many excessive force complaints on you I lost count but none of that is in the reports—I haven't filed a single thing. Anything that points to this in your file now is what you've allowed Lachlan to see."

"Wh—why?"

"Did you ever have a puppy?" she shakes her head slightly, features tense and eyes narrow. "Well they have a tendency to do stupid shit, nip at your pants, bite your socks-they do it because they just don't know any better yet and when I look at you that's what I see."

"Thanks?" she snorts, shaking her head as if I just gave her the biggest insult of her life.

"Your department if full of people who should have never been cops and damn sure people who never should have made detective but I've been watching you and I see there is such great potential Bo."

"That you don't know I'll ever reach—yeah I read your little profile of me."

"Look, I don't want your badge." I say kicking it back over toward her. "Lachlan likes taking badges, I don't and I certainly don't want yours. Why I am here is because your co-workers-your friends are just as stupid in their illegal activities as they are in their policing."

"What are you talking about?"

I hesitate and look her over while holding a breath, I may have fallen for her and made a hundred other mistakes tonight but was I prepared to make this one?

"Your crooked friends have some friends who are friends of some not so nice people."

"What? Like the cartel or mafia?"

"No Bo, the type of people who like to fly planes into buildings and leave surprises at marathons."

"What? No, there's no way that—"

"Bo," I say firmly pulling her attention back to me. "CSIS is an intelligence agency who deals first and foremost with national security, we deal in terrorists. We didn't know how much this department knew, how big the participation level was—is. We could have come in and shut the department down but we knew that would raise flags-we'd lose so much Intel so they placed me inside."

"I am not—" she cuts herself off, raised tone breaking as she takes several steps toward me. "I am not involved in **anything** like that Lauren."

"I know," I say softly and give her a little nod, I want to reach out and touch her-I don't though. "My opinions of them aside-I don't think they honestly know what they are partaking in either."

"Fuck." She lets out after a moment of silence as she runs her hand through her hair and walks away from me. "So what now? You send me off to some no name place until your mission is done?" she turns back around to face me.

"I'm not sending you anywhere Bo, I'm not telling anyone anything."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons, but the one that needs to take priority now is that we have less than twenty four hours before we can expect another body."

"So—I should just keep my mouth shut, pretend I know nothing."

"Yes."

"And what happened between us—just-forget that too?" she looks down at the ground which honestly makes it easier for me to answer.

"You can choose to do that—or not, that is your right. Me-I won't-I can't." I admit softly as I lean down and pick up my service weapon.

"Was any of it real?" she asks me as I'm one step from disappearing behind the wall of the hall.

"I grew up in Toronto with both of my parents and a little brother who is off at college now. I enjoy classical music, sushi and I've never left the country. I've dated mostly men but I have had one girlfriend before which ended with her returning to her boyfriend. I'm well rounded, smart and sensitive." I turn my head to look her in the eyes. "That is my cover story Bo, that's the story I've said a hundred times over and if you ask Evony anything about me that is what she will tell you. I've never lied to you outright Bo, just lies of omission."

* * *

_**Third Floor-Homicide Unit-12:22 p.m.**_

"Fucking-shit-fuck!" I come around the corner to see Bo yelling as she violently pulls on the bottom drawer of her desk. "Fucking shit!"

"Why don't you let me help you with that?" Dyson says almost laughing as he starts to come over from his desk.

"I've got it."

"Just let me—"

"Look asshole I said I fucking got the shit so back the fuck off." She snaps letting go of the handle and kicking it twice. "What? None of you ever had a bad day?" her voice still raised as she looks around the office at everyone who has once again stopped their duties to watch her little '_show_' provided by her—by us.

"Bo," I say softly as I approach her. "I know you're upset about-last night but you—"

"Upset about last night?" her attention snaps to me, her voice isn't a yell but it's still louder than I would have liked. "Upset about last night? No Lauren, I am upset because I spilled coffee all over my car and because I can't get this fucking drawer open. I am angry because I have been lied to by everyone and have been used. But about last night," she leans in, jaw clenched. "That-I am enraged about. But most of all I am infuriated because we have no clue how to catch this sick asshole!" she steps back kicking the drawer one more time before taking a seat.

"Doctor Lewis," I look over to the call of my name. "Can I see you in my office?"

I don't bother looking back toward Bo-I can't stand the look I know undoubtedly will be there. The one of pain and disgust and rage—I can't stand the sight of that on her—especially since it's meant for me.

Instead I force a polite smile as I walk into Evony's office, closing the door behind myself as I watch her close the blinds.

"Is she cracking?" she chuckles as she begins to turn around and it's a conscious effort not to snap at her.

"Honestly, I think we're all beginning to crack a little." I take a little breath and it becomes a little easier to keep my smile intact. "Everyone is just really frustrated about not being able to make any progress in the case."

"You're telling me," she walks over to me, this heavy smile on her face.

I can't lie I cared for Evony in my own way, we have a lot of things in common—a certain darkness in ourselves that seems to have finally found an understanding in the other. Beyond that she has a lot of qualities I like, she's funny, smart and decent company as well as I have respect for her.

The difference between her and Bo was that I could still pull the trigger if it came down to it.

"The piece of shit, RCMP is talking about coming in and taking over." Her hands wrap around my waist. "Can you believe this?"

Yes, you have a station full of idiots.

"Talk to Lachlan, I'm sure he can hold them off."

"I can't, me and him have had-a disagreement." She smirks and leans in to kiss me—I tilt my head to the side letting her get my cheek. "Okay—have **we** had a disagreement?" she leans back, features tightening.

"No," I smile softly and shake my head. '_Remember your job Lauren,' _those four words on repeat in the back of my mind. "I'm just tense is all."

"Alright." She says flatly, a conscious effort on her part to appear unbothered by my rebuff. "Fuck-Head seems to have a respect for you," she pulls her hands away and steps back. "If he pops in for a visit, do me a favor and try to smooth him over. Assure him my squad and your big brain will catch this fucker."

"No problem." I smile before turning and making a '_calm-run-for-it',_ but it's too late for what I was trying to avoid.

Bo's desk is empty.

* * *

_**City Morgue—5:34 p.m.**_

"The name on the door is Lauren Lewis." I raise an eyebrow walking into my office finding Lachlan leaning back in my desk chair once again.

"You know, I feel like you should have a theme song."

"What?" I snort taking a sip of my coffee.

"You just always seem to appear out of nowhere and then you have this walk—theme music would suit you."

"Why are you here?"

"You haven't checked in."

"I've been busy. Did you hear about RC—"

"Don't worry about them," he snorts and waves his hand in the air as if he was dismissing them.

"Why are you here Conner?" I take a seat and hold his gaze—something is off.

"How long have we known each other?"

"We just passed ten years three months ago."

"Lot of bad guys put away, lot of bad situations we've made it through."

"I know." I let my eyes fall down to my desk, an inkling of where he is going with this.

"This will be the first anniversary we don't visit her grave."

"Yeah," I sigh out, tears filling my eyes as I nod. "But tomorrow is Sunday and-she would understand."

"I know." He leans back in the chair, a heavy silence coming over us and time seems to slow—not come to a standstill, just slow. "Where is Kenz?"

"Having a late lunch with Hale."

"Bo's so called brother," he smirks and shifts in the seat. "Wonder how she would feel if she knew he was the one who blew the whistle."

"I'm sure she'd be fine considering she isn't involved." I say flatly, on one level it's true but on another I know she'd be devastated to find out he did this rather than go to her.

"How do you know that she isn't—how can you be sure?"

"I just am."

"What, strap her to a lie detector? Pull out some of your '_techniques_'?"

"Oh yeah, strapped her down and tortured her for a bit, that's actually what I was doing last night." I smirk before taking a drink of my cooling coffee. "Got tired of waiting for answers."

"I think you would make a very sexy dominatrix-have you ever gone uncover as one?" his eyebrow raises, smirk coating his lips.

"You already know the answer to that." I glare before a smirk overtakes my mouth. "Ass."

"Always baby," he chuckles, devilish smirk over his lips that soon fades. "You love her don't you?"

"Conner-don't, not today."

"It's been ten years Lauren, it's time." I look up at him in surprise, the tears still in my eyes now dangerously close to slipping.

"I thought you hated Bo?"

"I don't like her, but if you say she's good then," he shrugs. "I trust your judgment, I always have and always will."

"Do you?"

"First and foremost to me you will always be my sister, yeah we aren't blood and you never got a chance to marry my sister but—ten years Lauren. It's time to let it go; you deserve to smile genuinely without it being at me or Kenzi. You deserve to have a relationship that isn't forced upon you by work, you deserve to make love to someone and not—"

"Get paid for it?" I snort, taking a drink of my coffee.

"Last week I put a bullet in Hendrix's head and in two years Cane will be executed, it's all over. It's okay to move on."

"Why do I feel like you're trying to get rid of me?"

"I'm not but I got some news yesterday that's—given me a new perspective."

"What?"

"Sara is pregnant, you're going to be an aunt."

"What?" I can't help but smile as I put my coffee down and stand up. "That's—I can't believe it." I laugh softly while I walk around the desk to meet him as he pulls me into his arms. "That is amazing, did you tell Kenz yet?"

"Yeah, told her yesterday—if you would have answered any of your billion phones I would have been able to inform you too."

"This is the best news I've heard in—I'm so happy for you." I feel a tear slip down my cheek. "This is—"

"This is the start of a new beginning," he says firmly, hand cupping my cheek. "For all of us."

* * *

_**The Dal-11:48 p.m.**_

"Today has been shit," I say getting her to look up at me with the most perplexed look I have ever seen. "But I found something out today that—I say things like faith and hope because they are the words that fit but I haven't meant them in a long time. For the first time in a long time I think I recognize the real meanings to them though."

"Can you just," her voice breaks as she looks away from me. "Please just let me be Lauren."

"Lachlan is my brother," her attention snaps back to me. "I mean he was Cassidy's brother and has been my partner for ten years so—he's my brother and today I just found out that his wife, his wife who is supposed to be infertile is pregnant."

"Um—congratulations?"

"I've been pushing you away because I've been holding onto her, I've been holding onto this guilt and this anger and-you think I was fighting you because of who I am but it hasn't been about that in a very long time—maybe in some ways it's never been about that."

"Lauren," she whispers, features so stern as she tries to keep from letting the tears in her eyes fall.

"I feel horrible, mostly at the moment because we're just counting down the minutes until we get the call for another body but-" I cut myself off, swallowing the lump in my throat and looking down at the floor. "I've fallen for you Bo."

"I-I um," she stands up and looks at anything and everything but me. "I—can't do this right now." She blurts out as she pushes passed me to disappear into the crowd.

* * *

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_**Sunday**_

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_**Lexington Commons—1:19 a.m.**_

"Bo?" I let out softly still half asleep. "God, did they find another body already?" I ask glancing over my shoulder at the clock on the cable box.

"No." I turn to her voice, eyes still at half mass. "I owe you an apology."

"N—no you don't."

"I was—am angry with you and it was unfair to you tonight but—it was only in reaction to you being unfair as well."

"Me?" I let out without really thinking, it sounds dumb for me to play innocent at the moment but of all the choices of words to pick from unfair sort of threw me. "Sorry, I know—"

I'm cut off as her lips crash into mine, hands tightly holding the back of my head. My hands flew to her shoulders in response sort of pushing her away until I realized what was occurring—then I found them gripping her jacket and pulling her toward me.

They were opened lipped kisses but that was it, desperate and passionate in their own right.

It had been so long since I actually felt anything when being kissed, when being touched. I had even forgotten what lust had felt like in my endeavors, it's not to say I'm a professional whore but I have slept with more than one mark before, six including Evony to be exact—though she was more sort of a friends with benefits type of deal.

But with Bo—I actually felt everything and anything.

It's new and scary and given our current situation quite painful but God-I can literally feel myself becoming addicted.

"I am so mad at you," she breaths out against my lips, eyes glassy as she keeps ahold of my head. "I—I run when I'm hurt and when I'm scared." I give this little half nod as I sniffle back my own building tears. "I had started to run to him—to what I know but then—I thought—if I'm gonna run anywhere then it may as well be to you."

"Bo," my hands cupping her cheeks. "I am so sorry, you have to believe me that—" I cut myself off as she shakes her head.

"I-I don't want to talk." Her lips on mine again for a forceful kiss. "I can't talk now because I am so pissed at you," another kiss. "So beyond belief heartbroken," another kiss that lasts a bit longer. "But I don't want to fuck up any chance of something because of that—so I don't want to talk."

"O—okay." I sigh out, this time my lips falling onto hers.

Honestly, I didn't want to talk either.

* * *

_**Lexington Commons—3:36 a.m.**_

My eyes open, mind still hazy as I reach out and grab my phone off of the night stand.

_**UNKNOWN:**_ _Hey babe, feeling better? __**(3:35 a.m.)**_

Unknown-Bo?

I roll over onto my back to the sound of a soft moan, glancing over Bo is still completely nude and sprawled out with her face in my pillow-obviously in no condition to send a text message.

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_**UNKNOWN: **__Are you still mad? __**(3:37 a.m.)**_

_**UNKNOWN:**_ _Babe you know it is a major distraction when you're mad at me. __**(3:37 a.m.)**_

_**UNKNOWN: **__Come on Bella. __**(3:37 a.m.)**_

_**.**_

I bolt upright, this terrifyingly sick feel rushing through me—engulfing me.

I feel sick-I feel dizzy-this has to be a nightmare brought on by my stress levels beginning to reach the point of overdrive.

.

_**UNKNOWN:**_ _Got your attention yet? __**(3:38 a.m.)**_

_**UNKNOWN: **__Old Canter Lane, you should remember it. __**(3:38 a.m.)**_

_**.**_

I start to reach out to shake Bo awake but I pull my hand back, this would bring up to many questions, questions I didn't have time for—and honestly she would be needed if they called for another body.

This is my mess, not hers.

I slip from the bed as quietly as possible, pulling my gun from under the nightstand before I even think about clothes.

* * *

_**Old Canter Lane—4:30 a.m.**_

The sun isn't even close to being up yet and considering this is the country there is no lights—nothing to guide my way.

I hold my weapon tight, my feet sinking in the mud slightly with every step taken. It must have rained instead of snowed tonight—perfect way to get rid of evidence—I'm sure Bo has already gotten a call.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my chest growing heavier by the second.

It had been ten years since I'd been out here but I remember this land like it was yesterday.

Nothing had been touched, the land condemned and left—no one wanted the association with the reputation this place had. They never did anything here but this was where we had found them all, in a matter of one minute this place had become condemned never to be thought of again unless mentioned in horror stories.

Fifteen people killed, nine injured and four more arrested without incident. There was another eight officers killed and fourteen injured but I will NEVER say the numbers of that day without making the clarification.

I look back over my shoulder—my car too far to see now.

But in front of me the barn is just a hundred feet up—that I can see clearly.

Even through the darkness and the fog like mist I can see it—this place so intricately etched into my memory like a tattoo—no, more like a brand.

Approaching the barn I flick the safety off and take a deep breath-I had thought all of Cane's original followers were gone-guess I was wrong.

Cautiously I creep along the wall toward the door, the chain is off and it's ajar just a bit.

Gripping the handle I hold and listen for sounds but other than the howl of the wind there is nothing.

This is what I really was, I was a federal agent—not a simple medical examiner—that was an illusion-this was me.

I need to keep reminding myself of this.

This was by far the longest I had been undercover and I can see the string signs of fatigue-signs that I am forgetting what I really am.

Well in this moment I need to be very much aware of who exactly I am.

Not the woman who has taken pleasure in a normal job and who likes the idea of double dates with her sister and her boyfriend. Not the woman who is already planning helping her brother pick out strollers and cribs because he'll tell his wife he'll do it and then call me for help. Not the woman who has stupidly and crazily fallen in love with a woman who is waiting in her bed.

No-I can't be that woman right now.

One last deep breath to settle the nerves as I pull open the door and take three steps in eyes glancing over the area but my eyes catch on a pair of shoes hanging from the air.

My eyes move up from the shoes to the pair of legs they belong to covered by two-hundred dollar, black dress pant as I lower my weapon. My heart pounding so hard it hurts but it doesn't feel real. Eyes meeting an unbuttoned shirt that should have been white but instead is a bright red.

I can't breathe—my world is spinning and I can't breathe.

I force my eyes away as I gasp for air, nausea attacking in tidal sized waves.

"J-Jesus." A plea for help—for strength-because I can't think of anything else to say? "Oh—oh God." I can feel the tears welling in my eyes.

It can't be—it just can't be.

Gasping for air I force my eyes back up to confirm what I knew the second I saw the shoes.

I feel myself fall to my knees as my world continues to spin out of control—I think I'm going to pass out-or I'm going to be sick-possibly both.

I hear a creak—I think it's the door and instincts luckily kick in as my attention and the aim of my weapon are at the door instantly.

"Lauren-it's me."

I hear the voice and I see the shape but I can't place it between the tears and the lack of oxygen considering I can't control my breathing.

"Lauren, it's me. It's Bo."

"B—Bo?" I whisper blinking back tears, her shape filling in as I watch her put her weapon away and walk over to me.

"Yeah it's me." She says gently as she kneels down in front of me, eyes up on his dangling body. "It's okay, I'm here." She tries to sooth me, her hands on my shoulders. "It's okay." She repeats as I collapse into her arms. "You're okay." Words muffled as she kisses the side of my head, my face buried in her shoulder.


	7. Two For One

A.N. Just wanted to take a moment to say thank you to everyone reading and sharing your thoughts, this is my first AU so I've been nervous. Lol And a special thanks to InevitablyWicked for writing the last scene and all the other help she is **always** giving me.

* * *

_**Chapter Seven: Two For One**_

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**(Lauren's POV)**

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_**Old Canter Lane-5:15 a.m. **_

A twenty to twenty-six inch liner incision along the victim's abdominal area which is deep and wide enough to expose several of the victim's organs….

….fancy doctor speak to delicately say the man I consider my brother has been ripped open and has his insides hanging out.

I keep staring at his stupid shoes, his stupid three hundred dollar shoes that he just had to have because he thought he was the next James Bond—Cassidy wasn't much different than him, always had to have the best and look their best and be their best.

I suppose it's a good thing he has so many damn suits, we won't have to worry about what to bury him in.

I can't help but chuckle softly to myself as I sniffle back tears.

How did he get caught?

This is Conner Lachlan, the next James Bond—my big-brother, my senior agent, my handler, the only father figure I ever knew—that Kenzi ever knew, my partner.

He was supposed to be Batman or Superman or whatever other dumbass superhero—he was supposed to be untouchable.

Well hanging by his neck from a rickety old beam in some old, abandoned barn with his guts hanging out sure as hell didn't scream invincible.

Another soft chuckle as I wipe the tears from my face.

I glace over at Tamsin and Dyson who are standing off near the door snickering and looking at me with judgmental eyes—who are they to judge me? They're two dumbasses who can't even figure out their need for money is funding terrorist—yeah that is a pair who can judge me-funny. Hale and Bo are talking off to my right, another pair staring at me and judging—they weren't much better than their '_friends_'. She had called it in, the whole barn swarming with senseless officers—I should have said no, called in my own people—too late now they've contaminated everything already.

I run my hand over my face wiping away tears—why am I crying-oh right—Lachlan is dead.

What was he doing out here? Why didn't he call me? Did he call me and I was too busy? Was I too busy with Bo—focusing on myself that I missed his call? How did he let this happen?

I look back up at him—at his face.

I can only seem to manage to look at his shoes or his face-I can't look in between.

I've seen so many mutilated bodies—far worse than this. I've seen burn victims, acid victims, and biological weapons victims. I've seen dismembered body parts—cut off and torn off. I've seen torture victims. I've seen a lot but for some reason I can't seem to force myself to look at what was done to him.

At least his face is okay—we can have an open casket.

Sara will appreciate that—the agency will too. We can show him off like some Saint complete with his grieving '_sisters_' and his pregnant wife—I wonder if our dear Prime Minister will come—oh how she loved to utilize him. It'll be a huge spectacle—even bigger than they made Cassidy's funeral—and that was a spectacle. At least I don't have to take center stage as the grieving lover-don't think I remember how to play that part anymore.

Why is he here-right we don't know yet.

My hands go to my face trying to wipe away the tears—trying to stop them from falling. But for some reason the unconscious knowledge of knowing they can't see me only makes me begin to cry harder.

Why am I crying-right Lachlan is dead.

I take two deep breaths and sniff back tears, wiping them away as I remove my hands. I can't hide—I don't hide—I didn't hide when Cassidy died I sure as hell won't do it now.

I find myself looking at his shoes again but this time something is different—they're moving.

I mean they aren't just moving a little because he is dangling with a rope around his neck and there is quite a breeze but moving like he is moving-why is he moving?

I look up to his face and then up a bit more to the cross walk from one side of the barn to the next—a pair of uniformed officers trying to pull him up—by the rope.

"Wh—what are you doing?" I ask using the back of my hand to wipe the tears away. "What are you doing?" I ask again a little louder as I start to push myself up, a slight stumble as circulation begins returning to my legs. "Stop doing that!" I know I yell but apparently that is the only way to get them to stop.

Oh yeah they stop alright—they let him go and his body jerks in the air—the wood making a cracking sound with his weight once again abruptly pulling on it.

I hear Tamsin yell something at them but I can't make it out—my eyes going to his body that is now spinning to the right in a hundred and sixty degree turn—then to the left—then the right.

One of the officers comes rushing down the littler ladder and runs over as the one on top tries to grab for Lachlan's shoulders.

This time I hear Hale's voice—I don't know what he's saying all I can focus on is the fact that this incompetent officer is now trying to reach up and get Lachlan's body to stop moving—he's too high though.

Hale's voice again but all I see now is Lachlan's shoe falling to the ground, falling into dirt and remnants of straw—he's going to be pissed those are his favorite shoes-wait he won't-he's dead.

"Stop!" I hear myself yell as I grab a hold of the officer's jacket. "Stop touching him! Just stop! Leave!" I know I'm yelling—I know I'm pulling the officer backward to the point we're both stumbling but it doesn't feel real—none of this feels real. "Get away from him!" I shove the young boy back and stand in front Lachlan's body. "Don't touch him! Stop touching him! Just everyone get out!"

I hear my voice breaking, my vision blurring but I don't care—I lean down grabbing his shoe and brushing it off—he's going to be so mad-no-he won't.

I turn around, trembling hands reaching up in the air as I try and put his shoe back on—I'm not tall enough—nowhere near.

"Lauren," I hear my name whispered so gently it almost hurts, a slight weight against the left side of my body as I feel a trembling hand lightly rest over my wrist. "Look at me." She orders so softly that I can't help but look over.

"He needs his shoe, it's his favorite pair." I breathe out, suddenly all too aware of this weight in my chest.

"They're nice I can see why," she nods, hand sliding up over mine to grab the shoe. "I promise it'll be put back on him."

"No—no I don't trust—"

"Lauren, I got it." I look over at Hale who reaches out.

"Move." I turn behind myself at the sound of Tamsin's bark as she pushes the uniformed officer aside and starts up the ladder. I watch as she walks across the cross-walk to meet the other, a gesture of her hand dismissing him as she kneels down.

"Lauren." Hale repeats giving me this little nod as he takes the shoe from both me and Bo's embrace.

"We've got it." Bo whispers in my ear, one hand on the small of my back as the other is resting on my stomach—she's guiding me backward.

I watch as Hale places the shoe down and then reaches up—Dyson across from him doing the same as Tamsin cuts the rope with a pocket knife. I try to move back toward them but her embrace is too strong so instead I just let her guide me away and continue to watch Lachlan's body falls into their arms.

* * *

_**Saint Andrew's Hospital-8:03 a.m.**_

"Why is he here and not at the morgue?" Kenzi barks glaring down at me—my eyes are on the floor but I know she is glaring.

"Because I can't do the autopsy."

"Oh," I look up at her, she's leaning against the wall her little features trying so hard to remain stern but I know she is just one wrong word away from crying. "O—okay, yeah I get that." She nods and glances away with a sniffle.

"Kenzi, I need to tell you something and it isn't the best time—"

"Then don't."

"I have to because after what happened at the-there is no turning back now. It's only a matter of time, Kenzi my cover was blown."

"What?" her attention snaps to me, pure fear written across her face. "Shit. We gotta call this in, we gotta get you outta here."

"Kenz," I shake my head. "It's been blown for over a day now. Bo-"

"Bo?" she snorts out through a chuckle. "You've gotta be shitting me."

"Ju—just listen to me—"

"Listen to you? You just blew your cover to some dirty cop? To a cop that isn't even good at her job? To someone who whores herself out on a nightly bases?"

"Enough!" I yell jumping to my feet. "Enough." I repeat softer catching myself. "She wasn't going to say anything—but I lost my—" I can't manage to finish that sentience, I can't even begin to process what I'm feeling let alone continue to admit one failure after the next. "I am so sorry."

"Oh get the fuck over yourself Lauren. You got sloppy for some pussy and just threw not only your mission but my relationship out of the window."

"What did you think was going to happen Kenzi? That you'd become a CSIS agent and he wouldn't figure it out? That he'd come over for family dinners and not wonder why Lachlan is-was there? You weren't exactly thinking either."

"I didn't lie to him!" she yells taking the three steps it takes to get in my face.

"Who are you kidding?"

"At least what we have is real."

"What does that mean?" I feel my eyes narrow, as I hold a breath—we didn't fight like this—we hardly ever fought actually. "What does that mean?" I repeat a little harder, the feel of my nostrils flaring telling me I needed to back down.

"It means what it sounds like, you think this little thing with Bo is going to last?"

"Whatever Kenz, I can't do this with you now." I wave her off as I begin down the hall. "You know he was happy for me!" impulsion takes over as I spin back around. "He gave me his blessing. He wanted me to be happy."

"So do I! Jesus Christ Lauren, you don't think I want you to be happy?! I want that for you, I want you to be able to stop mourning—to stop hanging onto a ghost but you think Bo is that?! You think she is going to be able to be who you need?!"

"I don't need her to be anything!" I move forward by three steps as she does the same.

"Forget the personality, forget the fact that she is crooked and has more issues than an episode of Jerry Springer-fuck all of that Lauren what happens when this is all over? Huh?! What happens when the adrenalin and thrill is gone and the intensity and constant situations pushing you two together?" she takes another two steps once again getting into my face, eyes locking with mine. "You think that this is real—it's laughable. What you have is attraction and a common need which is being amplified by every single situation that's happened."

"Reading my books again?"

"Once all is said and done—a month after or two or three or six-all of this is going to come back up Lauren. Yeah maybe she is okay now, now in this moment that you two have to work together to save children and in this morning that your brother was just ripped in two. But what about then?"

"I'm not having this discussion with you now." I snap, blinking back tears as I turn back around.

"You don't think she'll care then that you spy-banged her? You don't think that will come up? Or what about the fact that you're going to have to arrest her ex and all her friends? What about the fact that she knows nothing about you—that you can't even tell her what you really do or what you've done?" she pauses, tears rolling down her cheeks, voice lowering. "What you're feeling isn't love, everything-you lied to her, spy-banged her for the government, arresting all of the people she knows, spied on her-these aren't things you can just forgive."

"Well you better hope it is Kenz-because I don't think Hale is going to see your situation very different than my own." I swallow back the lump in my throat, ignoring the little voice telling me to stop. "You've been lying to him, reporting to me anything he's let slip about his friends-his sister. You've been doing all of this while in the final stages of applying to be a CSIS agent—and fucking him while doing so-guess we really are sisters, huh?"

* * *

_**City Morgue-12:14 p.m.**_

"Hey," I whisper as I look up to the knock on my office door. It wasn't so much meant to be a whisper as the fact that I just haven't spoken to anyone in three hours nor had I drank anything—just forgot about it I guess.

"Doctor." She smiles ever so gently, leaning against the door as she watches me.

Only this time I am watching her. Not in the way that I had been, not as someone who felt themselves beginning to fall for her. Not as someone who sees potential and doesn't want to ruin it. Not as someone who is hoping for something—hoping for what, I don't know but not as someone with hope.

This time I watch her with an objectivity I hadn't had in a while.

I see it instantly-see what Kenzi was warning me about. I see the pain and anger just underneath a layer of affection and pity. I see that she really wants to call me names but instead she'll go with '_Doctor'_, her affectionate term for me. I can tell she wants to yell but she'll settle for a soft and soothing tone. I can tell she wants to be the only way she knows—aggressive but instead she'll lean against my propped open office door with her arms folded across her chest keeping an unusual distance between us. I can tell she wants to hurt me—not physically because something tells me she knows physical pain is just as lost on me as it is on her.

I can see that she is doubting my words to her—my feelings for her, it's a shame because I've never been more sure about anything.

But I am a realistic woman and in an instant I can see all of this, in a second all of Kenzi's words were proven true—so I guess there really isn't a future here is there?

"You think too much."

"Hm?"

"You think too much," she repeats herself, this hardening to her tone as she looks away from me for a moment. "I can see your little hamster running around in there."

"I prefer Smurf."

"I'm sorry?" her brow furrows as her head tilts to the right.

"I prefer Smurf instead of hamster."

"Let me guess, Brainy-Smurf?"

"No, Sporty actually." My eyebrow raises, almost daring her to make that comment I know she has on the tip of her tongue by the way she fights a smirk.

"Now that I would have never guessed," she chuckles through a smile and shakes her head at me. "You never cease to surprise me." She meant it playfully—endearingly but her smile gradually begins to fade and we both know why.

"Just say it." I glance down at my desk as I pull my glasses off.

"They're putting the pieces together Lauren, there's nothing I can do to stop it."

"It's fine, after my little performance I'm surprised they aren't here kicking down my door with pitchforks."

"Given the situation," she cuts herself off, eyes falling to the floor once again.

It's sweet how despite everything she thinks I'm made of glass, if she only knew the real me.

"Excuse me." Evony's voice cuts through the tension filled air pulling both of our attention to the door. "Detective Dennis, perhaps if you answered your phone rather than socializing you'd know we have another body."

"What?" we say in union.

"If you hurry you may be able to catch your partner before he leaves." She says it as a suggestion but we both know it's about as kind of an order as this woman can manage.

Bo looks over at me like this broken puppy dog, that pain and mistrust that was laying just beneath the surface now written all over her face. But she doesn't know what she feels when it comes to me and she fears Evony so she looks away as she slides passed her boss who walks in, closing the door behind herself as I stand.

"I don't honestly know what I am more pissed off about, the fact that I got played or that I didn't see it." She says with an icy smirk, a slight glisten to her eyes.

"Come on Ev," I give this little shrug as a smirk coats my lips. "It wasn't all bad." Smirk growing as I walk out from behind my desk, leaning against the side edge of it. "I don't ever remember you complaining—though you did seem to have your mouthful a lot."

"Lauren, Lauren, Lauren," she snorts a chuckle as she walks toward me, her own smirk coming out to play. "As pissed as I am there is a certain—beauty to this."

"Oh, I know." My hands sliding off of my thighs to the ledge of the desk. "The Great Evony Morgan out smarted by a geek in her own building surrounded by all of her own people."

"Really is one for the collection isn't it?" another chuckle as she finds her way in front of me, less than a foot between us. "Too bad big brother won't be here to see the medal you get for this one." She practically sings her words, my smirk faltering.

"Oh," I let out as I stand up straight, eyes locked with hers. "Are you trying to bait me?" I can't help but snicker, smirk quickly returning—she didn't get to see me hurt—she didn't get to see me upset. "That's adorable."

I know I make a face when I say it, I can feel it and was it a complete bitch move? Defiantly but the thing was, my cover is blown—I don't need to keep my head down and play the passive and shy one that no one ever noticed.

Well that and the fact I see her smile fade, her eyes narrow and I'm almost ninety percent sure she is about to hurl another insult my way but surprisingly she doesn't.

What she comes back with is a slap hard enough to cause me to stumble ever so slightly to my right.

Now I know I should have logically thought about what to say-what to do next in this situation considering my current predicament but as it turns out I'm not so much for logical thought at the moment.

As I begin to straighten myself upright I bring my arm up, back of my left hand going across her face, must have been a while since she's been hit because she starts to stumble back. Reacting on instinct same hand grabs a hold of her shoulder, thumb digging into her collarbone as I shove my other forearm against her chest and push her backward.

It's only a second maybe two and she is hitting my office door, the blinds making a racket as they're tugged on with the pressure of her weight. I'm sure they're fall down any moment—but they never do.

"You're full of surprises aren't you." She nearly snarls her words pushing against my hold not enough to be considered a struggle but enough that it tells me she'll fight if need be.

Honestly-I'm not quite sure what I had wanted to accomplish with this but then again I haven't really been thinking straight for the past couple of days.

Unlike with Bo, words weren't always needed with Evony—there was just this sort of understanding. She reacted and so did I—it meant neither of us were afraid of this turning into something beyond verbal attacks. Despite the fact that I am holding her in place and she is resisting neither of us is using enough force to hurt the other, it's just enough to let the other know that we aren't backing down.

There is a certain beauty in this sort of communication to me, it's dark and anti-social but there was a form of understanding that couldn't be learned—I had that with Lachlan-and Cassidy.

But there is also an equally unique beauty in having to vocalize yourself, to say the things that you never thought you would-that was more my relationship with Kenzi and apparently Bo.

I wonder if you ever get to have both.

"You don't know me Evony," I say calmly but firm enough to keep intone with the mood.

"Honestly Lauren," She smirks icily, hand reaching up over my arm to wipe the little trace of blood that coated her lip. "I don't think **anyone** truly knows you." her tone as if I should know the meaning behind that.

I'm not sure what it's supposed to mean, honestly it was stupid, probably just something to gnaw at me but I can't quite describe why I find myself so taken back by it.

* * *

_**Cannon Road-12:58 p.m.**_

I step out of my car and I swear that I'm moving in slow motion.

It's not raining anymore nor snowing but it's cold, cold enough to see my breath clearly in the air but then again what did I expect in Montreal. The sky is this weird shade of blue, it's not even blue actually but a gray.

We're on a bridge, he's getting more and more daring now it's only been a couple of weeks and he's gone from the cover of night in a rundown neighborhood to a decently used bridge in the middle of the day.

What is his game-why does he seem all over the place yet never seeming to slip up? What are we missing-what am I missing?

I keep my hands in my pockets as I walk up, every single person's eyes on me. I wasn't a stranger to the attention, in fact most times wherever I went there were eyes on me though that was normally in fear of me for one reason or another.

Today though the stares are quite different, stares I haven't seen in years—I almost forgot what they were like.

There must be fifteen uniformed officers scattered all stopping their job to get a look at me—perhaps if they worried less about the personal events in their co-worker's lives then maybe they'd actually get work done.

But that's just it isn't it—I'm not their co-worker.

I don't know why it was so hard this time, it's Bo yes-but there is something more. Something that is pulling at a part of me I don't quite understand. A part of me that enjoyed the sound of Kenzi laughing in the mornings with Hale in our kitchen. A part of me that despite not caring for most of these people took a liking to the sense of loyalty that was there because I worked with them. A part of me that wondered what it would be like to get off of work and meet up with Bo and Hale and Kenzi at the bar and have a double-date so to speak.

I wanted this life-or maybe it was just that I wanted the life that came with Bo.

"Lauren." She says my name almost in a quieted panic, her hand on my shoulder.

"Bo," I say softly, gradually coming out of my thoughts. "What is it?"

"Maybe you should let your techs handle this."

I glance passed her at the three detectives standing over our latest victim—whether she was saying so because of Lachlan or because of them I don't quite know yet.

My eyes meet hers, she looks so scared for me—it's sweet yet at the same time only reminds me how true Kenzi's words are—she doesn't know me.

"It's okay." I smile gently and tap her arm before side stepping her and walking up to the victim.

Of course I see the looks that the three of them are giving me but dirty looks do little to nothing to upset me, I have bigger problems than Dyson and Tamsin's scowl or Hale's kicked-puppy look. I can be cold when I want to be, honestly most doctors can and so can most CSIS so the combination did wonders for me but it wasn't so much that today as the fact that nothing felt real.

In the grand scheme of things my life has been slowly spinning out of control for over a day and now it just felt like a dream.

I look down at the little body once again left clothed in her pink, princess pajamas.

"She is between four and five," I begin while pulling out a pair of gloves and placing them on. "The blue-ish color of her skin—"

"Could be because it's fucking freezing out here." Dyson snorts, hands in his pants pockets as he continues to glare at me.

"You think so?" I raise a brow. "Because often when someone is cyanotic," I glance up at him as I kneel down. "That mean asphyxiation, their skin will have a blue tint to it as our victim does and since we already know who did this and exactly how she died-it's safe to say it's because she was asphyxiated by water rather than hypo-thermia, yeah?"

"Bitch." I hear him grumble under his breath.

I would have had a retort of some kind but as I am leaning over her checking for wounds to her neck I get the faintest hint of something. I tilt my head back trying to shake my hair from my face before leaning back down awkwardly, my nose just above her mouth.

"Smell this," I say looking up at the group and expecting someone to do as I say but the four of them just look amongst each other. "I smell acetone, I need to make sure it isn't just me."

"Move." Tamsin barks in her normal fashion as her hand slams against Dyson's chest to move him as she walks around opposite me making sure to glare at me the entire time. Keeping my gaze but none the less she kneels down and does as I '_asked'_. "You got to be shitting me, that's fucking chloroform." She snorts out this near baffled chuckle looking from me up to them.

The five of us looking amongst one another, by no means were any of us okay with each other but this was something new—this was clue that we didn't have before.

Was this new and if so why? If this wasn't new how did I miss it-could I have missed it? Why was he suddenly so erratic? Is he evolving into something more-or was he unraveling?

* * *

_**The Club House—10:47 p.m.**_

"C-can I come in?" I ask brushing passed the fact she pushes the door open and has a gun pointed at me for the second time this week.

"Of course." She says after a moment of hesitation, her weapon lowering.

It's almost funny considering she is in short, black shorts and a matching sleeveless tee and has a gun—some thirteen year old boy's wet dream—can't lie it was visually appealing to the thirty-five year old woman standing in front of her too but that was another topic entirely.

She steps aside and I walk in stopping almost exactly at the spot I was standing two days ago, only this time I can see better. She as candles set up all over the apartment or at least what I can see of it. It looks sort of romantic in it's own right.

"Do you have anything to drink?"

She hesitates again as she closes the door, taken back by me being here most likely. Possibly taken back by the fact I would ask for a drink in a shit-hole like this but then again I know her, I've spent three months watching her and another three before this reading every file ever written on her so that makes me qualified to make some assumptions.

I wish I could say I knew she'd run here rather than face the fallout of Hale and possibly anyone else who would pop up at the apartment or that I knew she had a bag packed just in case of anything really because I was so in-love with her, that I had paid that much attention to her but the truth of the matter was it was-is my job to know her.

"Yeah," she sort of sighs out while walking up the hall, placing her gun on this ledge in the wall that I can't help but wonder if it's supposed to be there or if the lack of dry wall conveniently created a nice little covey for her.

She reaches her destination which is in half of an arm's reach of me, I'm not sure if she preferred that for the fact that she could actually touch me if she wanted to or if there was another reason. She wasn't one who liked to invade personal boundaries—well let me rephrase that, she didn't like to invade them unless she had a reason.

For three months I watched her and very rarely did she ever get this close when talking to Tamsin or Evony or really anyone. There was a certain lax boundary rule with Hale of course and then Dyson but otherwise she liked her space, even times with me I can tell she prefers it—maybe not prefers it so much as gets uncomfortable if I move too close when she isn't expecting it.

I wonder if Dyson ever noticed that-I wonder if he ever took the time to get to learn the little things about her like that.

"Actually I think," her eyes gradually meet mine, I see her point off toward the kitchen but my eyes stay on hers. "It might be by my bed." she has this nervous smile and there is a hesitation, one that tells me she is studying me—wondering how I'll respond to that—wondering if I'll take it as an invitation or let it slide as an innocent comment, I choose the latter. "I'll be right back."

She is disappointed I know and if I am honest I think I am a little disappointed in myself as well but I don't know why I am here—I don't know where we stand and I need to know that. I know she said she wouldn't say anything before but now this was a different game, everyone knew and I'm sure they knew about us as well.

I walk over and take a seat on her couch, it would appear as if she has dusted it off. Leaning back against the cushion I let my body relax, it was oddly comfortable, not just the couch itself but the place as a whole. Maybe it was because it was hers or maybe it was because no one knows where we are, sort of our own little hideaway-for the moment.

"I don't have glasses so," I glance up at her as she gives me this apologetic half smile and a shrug. "I mean you don't seem to mind kissing me so," apologetic turns to sheepish as her eyes fall to my lips, sometimes I forget how much younger she is than me.

"It's not a problem." reaching out I take the bottle and take a little drink as I watch her sit down next to me. "That's—that's pretty strong."

"Confiscated it from Trick." she smirks, a sense of confidence returning as she watches me take another drink with an interesting intensity.

"Th—thank you, I really needed this." I go to hand her the bottle but she lazily lifts up her hand waving it off.

"Life hasn't been very fair to you," she wholeheartedly means her words but I have to bring the bottle back up to my lips to keep from chuckling, here she was saying that to me, she was an interesting one I'll give her that. "Honestly you're the strongest person I know."

"Do you know I did my hair before I came over here?" I sort of snicker at my own words, this heavy feeling pulling at me again suddenly.

"Well—it looks great." she gives me this smile as she takes the bottle from me, complete confusion radiating off of her but she is too polite to say anything.

"No, I didn't mean-thank you." a little sigh escapes as I begin to mentally kick myself—what am I doing here? "It's just that the doctor part of me never shuts off and I know that I am merely acting out of a transference of grief onto you—wanting to have sex is a very common response to grief."

Wow Lauren-this is a new level of pathetic for yourself. Of all the things I could have gone with I choose to do this-and then spell out for her why I am crazy. I could have kissed her and been done—I could have left it at transference of grief-hell I could have left it at I did my hair before coming here but no I decided to ramble on and explain my entirely jumbled thought process that I myself don't even understand—wonderful.

God she looks confused and nervous and uncomfortable and confused-shit.

"Biologically speaking the transference often helps move the pain—sort of use it as something else. Turn it into something different—something better."

Yep and I just keep going—am I sure I'm a CSIS agent because they know when to shut up-I used to know when to shut up.

"Yeah," she sighs her response while letting her eyes fall down to her lap-I've freaked her out, nice move Lauren. "I can see how intimacy would do that." she finishes her sentience as she looks up into my eyes and I forget to think—to breathe for a moment.

"It's in much the same way a person whose having a heart attack often feels a sharp pain in their left arm, it's the brains way of redistributing the pain-so it's not all concentrated in one area." Someone shoot me now, just shoot me I can't believe I have zero control over what I'm saying.

"I love it when you totally geek out." she says it through this massive smile and had this been any other occasion I would have been right smiling back, having a laugh at how geeky I can be but I can't seem to find a balance between-well anything in myself right now.

"Can I sleep with you?" I blurt it out, another un-thoughtout slip.

"Yes."

"I just mean sleep," I see the little twinge of disappointment creep in as her nervous smile fades ever so slightly but the fact I can hear my own voice begin to break grabs my attention.

"Yeah, exactly." her features tense a bit and whatever disappointment was there gets shuffled away as she picks up on a hurt in me that I'm trying desperately not to show.

"I—I'm-" I look over to the table, I wanted to tell her something against my better judgment. I wanted to tell her how scared I am about everything, how tired I am—how much pain I am in but I can't seem to find the words.

I don't cry—I don't show hurt not really, I mean I'm well aware how to mimic it for my job but it's been so long since I've actually felt it. The list of people who could hurt me before Bo was exactly three, Kenzi, Lachlan and Sarah-Sarah just barely made the list as it is, not that I don't care about her but I've just made sure to keep a distance.

I want to show her that beneath the agent, beneath this chilled exterior that she has come to know there is someone, a real person who feels—only problem was I don't remember how to show that.

"Hey," this little gentle whisper accompanying an equally gentle smile as she leans forward resting her hand innocently on my knee. "It's okay."

She says it so softly yet with such conviction, I can't help but wonder though if she means it's okay to sleep here with her or if she means it's okay that I don't have to give her a reason. Perhaps she sees beneath it all and is telling me that it's okay to an admission I hadn't yet had the courage to say aloud.

"So," she leans back and suddenly there is this awkwardness beginning to swirl around us. Her lips parting to say something but she must decide against it since rather than speaking she takes a large gulp of tequila. "What do you wanna talk about?"

"Um," I raise a brow and give a little scoff. "I don't know actually, I'm not really a big talker."

"Oh come on Lauren, you're a CSIS agent aren't you guys supposed to be smooth talkers, get information and shit like that?" another hefty gulp at the reminder of who I really am.

"That isn't my—field." I look away from her as I take the bottle.

"You guys have fields?"

"Yep, we aren't all a bunch of field agents." I take a drink and begin thinking of evasive maneuvers for this conversation.

"Then what exactly do you do?" she asks but there is this hint of anger now. "Okay, where was your last assignment?" she waits, staring at me. "So, that's it—what I know about you now is all I get to know?"

"You don't want to know these things Bo." and I don't want to tell you-I'm afraid of how you'll look at me when you know.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't."

"You ask because you're curious," a drink before I look back over at her. "You ask because you're searching for something, you think if you know it'll give you that feeling of emotional connection—you don't actually want to know."

"I want to know because I want to know who you are Lauren." she reaches out and I go to hand her the bottle but her hand rests over mine, beautifully dark eyes peering into mine—searching for something.

"I'm a class six Information Specialist which is a fancy title for an interrogator."

"There is classes for that?" she sort of chuckles as she leans to her left into the cushion, hand falling down to my knee.

"One domestic, two foreign, three lightly aggressive tactics, four aggressive tactics, five severe tactics and six," hesitation hidden as I take another drink before handing it to her. "Specialist in all five prior classifications."

"I um, I think I know what that means but I haven't had the best luck when it comes to making assumptions about you so-"

"It's what you're thinking."

"Oh. Okay," she nods and takes a drink while I just watch her and wait for her to start to pull away.

"I've administered a hundred and sixty-three interrogations in fifteen different countries, fifty seven of which required—tactics. I've been stabbed three times and shot twice. I don't remember how many people I've killed anymore, it got easier to ignore the number after five."

"H—how does one become a," she trails off while she sits up straight, tossing her legs over the ledge rather then keeping them underneath herself and puts the bottle down on the table.

"Something happened pretty early in my career that made my bosses think I was a good fit, not to mention having three degrees helps."

"Three?" she glances back up at me, eyes widened.

"When I was sixteen I tested out of high school and began college, it's possible if you're dedicated. I was still finishing up my last degree when I became an agent."

"So I'm guessing one of them is medical?" I just nod. "The other would be what, criminology?" another nod. "The third though," she pauses eyes running over my face in a different way than they normally do. "Sociology—No," she shakes her head. "Psychology?" another nod. "Well here I thought you thought I was stupid when you had one degree." she snorts and looks away, this time it's my turn to lean forward, hand resting on the small of her back.

"I don't think you're stupid Bo."

"Well you can't really tell the girl you're sleeping with she is stupid—I guess you could, Dyson sorta does."

"I don't." free hand reaching out and cupping her cheek forcing her to look back at me. "I really don't think you're stupid Bo, honestly I think if you would have had proper training you'd be replacing Evony in a couple years."

"Stop." she tries to turn away.

"My job is to assess people-"

"I thought your job was to interrogate them."

"Can't interrogate them without assessing them first," my hand gliding down her jawline to the crook of her neck. "I see so much in you Bo, I wish that you would believe in yourself the way that I do."

"I need to ask you a question," she swallows hard and glances away from me for a mere moment. "Is this about her?" what she really means to ask me is if she is a replacement for her.

"No." I say flatly as I pull back. "Cassidy was very much like her brother, very much like me in some ways—well who I am now. She didn't really have many emotions, not that there was anything wrong with that but she was either happy or angry or excited, there was no variations. She was beautifully simplistic."

"And me?" her voice a heavy whisper, eyes refusing to let mine go as she searches for the answers she desires.

"Beautifully complicated."

"I bet you say that to all the girls." she smirks heavily and begins looking away. "Well," sighing it out she stands, hands tapping her thighs. "Ready to try and get some rest?"

"Yeah," I nod.

I want to say something, to comfort her but I don't think there is a way to comfort her and the doubt she is feeling. So instead I just follow her through the living room and then up the narrow staircase into her room. Surprise replacing my guilt—at least for the moment.

"What?" her brow furrows as she looks back at me while walking around the bed.

"Nothing, I just was expecting-"

"I had a lot of pent up energy," she pulls the burgundy sheet down the bed. "I would have normally worked it off by—um," she catches herself and gives this chuckle while moving onto the bed. "Or a good fight but I don't really have anyone to spar with and I'm tired so I ended up cleaning and since I have to sleep here now figured may as well start with the bedroom."

"No, smart." I sort of chuckle as I slip from my shoes.

Don't get me wrong it wasn't like walking into the Hilton but it was actually clean and looked livable. It was a good sized room and the fact that only four pieces of furniture were in here helped showcase that fact. A long dresser along the wall right besides the closed glass doors that lead into the bathroom, a chair in the corner on the other side of the doors. Then the bed with a single nightstand next to what I am now assuming is her side of the bed.

"Do you do that naturally or just with me?"

"Hm?" my eyebrow raises as my attention moves back to her.

"Getting a layout of the place."

"Sorry, it's a natural reaction—don't you?"

"Not in places I know I'm safe." she says it and I know there is an underline meaning there I just don't know if that is her telling me I am safe or her way of asking why I don't trust her enough to feel safe.

"I'm sorry." I whisper and walk over to the edge of the bed, smiling nervously at her. She's slept in my bed twice now, both times sexual and both times never enough time to really think about what we were doing beyond the physical aspects so now with sex off the table it was slightly awkward.

"There isn't a magic password." she smirks, I think she is getting a certain level of joy from this.

Taking it sort of as a challenge I maneuver myself onto the bed but rather than laying next to her or leaning against the headboard as she is I rest my head on her stomach, arm draping over her waist. It was sort of to prove a point, to show her I wasn't scared but I can't help this rush I feel the second I hear her heart.

I feel tears pulling in the corners of my eyes and I want to laugh at myself but instead I hold her tighter and just listen to her heart beating.

Is this what safe felt like?

I feel safe with Kenzi of course but it's the comfort of a sister, it's an emotional comfort and I felt safe with Lachlan too that was an emotional safe yet not quite as much as with Kenzi yet with him there was also the feeling of protection—it was his job most times after all. But this with her it's both and neither yet so much more that it's hard to describe.

The love and comfort a sister or bother can bring you can never cross over into the realms of comfort a lover can but in some ways a lover can cross those boundaries, I mean after all a brother or sister is really just having a best friend—who most times is related by blood.

Sure I had felt safe with Cassidy at the time but I was a different person then with different things I needed to be protected from-accepted for.

I look at Bo and a part of me beyond logic or reason tells me that she would protect me no matter what, that she would do what ever it took to keep me safe. I look at her through the pain and see an acceptance at what she knows yet still a yearning to know more. I see through her desire and natural sexual behavior to see someone trying desperately to make a connection that she doesn't know how to make nor fully understand.

Perhaps it is crazy to try to explain and rationalize all of the reasons you feel safe with someone the same way it would be to explain truly why you love someone.

This tiny little moan grabs my attention, muddled mind taking a moment to realize what it was and who it was from. I had been so deep into my musings I hadn't even felt that her hand was idly and innocently running over my back soothing me. Nor had I realized that my own hand was on her thigh, fingers idly and not so innocently playing with and just under the hem of her shorts.

I should have pulled my hand away when I realize what I was doing but instead I lay my hand flat, thumb moving so it was resting on the inside of her thigh.

She doesn't speak, not even a peep nor does she move but I hear her heart begin to speed.

I can't help but wonder what it would be like to make love to her, such an interesting concept to me. There has to be a level of trust—of knowing and accepting the other person so I can't classify our first time as that. I suppose if we were to do something tonight it could be a cheap classification of that but there is still so much left unsaid, so much left to deal with-I wouldn't want that. I want to know what it feels like to actually make love, to be able to look her in the eyes and see love, to kiss her lips afterword and tell her how I feel before falling asleep in her arms. I want to know the real thing, not some cheap imitation.

I turn my face further into her stomach, breathing in her scent as I keep my grip firm but slide up underneath her shorts, a sharp breath taken as she grips my shoulder blade but again she says nothing.

I'm not touching_ 'her'_, but I can tell two things, one she isn't wearing underwear-I don't think she hardly ever does. The second is the effect I'm having on her, the inside of her thigh damp—I can't help but smirk momentarily into her stomach.

I don't think I've ever gotten such a rush of pride knowing what an effect I have on her. I wonder if this is what guys go on and on about, that whole prideful boasting and whatnot—if so I think I understand it a little better now.

I bite softly through her shirt as my hand slides across to her lower stomach, thumb teasingly resting over '_her'_ now.

I wonder what it would be like to fuck her, something else that requires a level of trust and acceptance—of course in different ways. The word is so commonly used now with so many different meanings but to me it requires trust and acceptance. Trust that you could do and say nearly anything and not be judged, trust to share that part of yourself and not be shamed. Acceptance that the person would do or try what you wanted because they want to please you, because they accept you and want to know you on a level that few to none have ever seen you.

Don't get me wrong, it' not like I have some crazy fantasy but I want to know what it's like to lose yourself beyond restraint and know that feeling that if I was to_ 'lose control' _I wouldn't need to worry.

"Lauren," she breathes out my name as I feel her body tensing.

I love the way she says my name, in general yes but I love the way it rolls off her tongue when she wants me.

I'm waiting for her to stop me but I know she won't.

I want to be stopped-but honestly I don't.

I slide up her body, quick kiss to her lips before my lips work their way down her tense jawline to the curve of her neck. I never understood how her skin and her clothes have different scents, not extremely noticeable and they're complementary but the difference is intriguing.

"Lauren." another breathless call as she grabs my face forcing me to face her.

I'm sure there are words that meant to follow that but her eyes focus on my parted lips before meeting my eyes with this intensity.

She isn't going to stop me and I'm not going to stop her.

Lips meet in a needful kiss—they were always needful with us.

I'm not going to lie and say I've hated every sexual encounter I've ever had, some weren't all bad and it's not as if I just laid there waiting for it to be over. I honestly don't even think it was the acts themselves so much as the knowing of why I was doing it-of seeing the bonus check at the end of assignment that is a problem for me. It's not like the check details what it's for but I know and that's what matters.

I don't think I would have even reported Evony this time if Lachlan hadn't been watching me close enough to know.

Kenzi thinks Bo's nature is something I should be concerned about but honestly I think my own is worse. She does what she does to feel a connection-to **feel **and I've done mine to fake one, force one—for a job.

I pull back looking into her eyes watching the different levels of intensity happening as my thumb slips lower.

I wonder if she trusts me—if she trusts that I'm being honest with her now or if it's all some part of my job. I wonder if she has stopped to think if I really want this-her or if I'm keeping up appearances.

I wonder what she's thinking-feeling-I wonder if she feels the same as me.

"It's okay," I whisper and give this gentle smile. I know she is trying her best to stay in control of herself, to not push this anywhere that I'm not leading. "It's okay." I repeat leaning back in, lips covering hers.

I don't know what this is, what we are but right now it doesn't matter—all that matters is that I know it's real.

.

.

.

_**Monday**_

.

.

.

_**The Club House-5:09 a.m.**_

"Ow," I grumble aloud as I roll onto my back, tilting my head side to side trying to get it to crack.

_'Sleeping in?'_

My eyes shoot open at the sound of the voice—of his voice. Bo isn't in bed—it's okay though she is in the shower I can see her from here.

_'Forgetting me already?' _

I sit up and feel my heart sink into my stomach, Lachlan standing over by her dresser. Smirk on his face, hands in his pockets with his thumbs out tapping his pelvic bone impatiently the way he tends to do.

_'Come on Lauren.'_

"You're a manifestation of my subconscious." I whisper to myself with a sigh, running my hand through my hair.

_'Well I sure as hell haven't risen from the grave like one of those stupid movies Kenzi watches.'_

I can't but smile at his words, he always bitched about them—so did I but every fourth Friday of the month we'd get together and make a night of it.

_'This why I am here, facilitate your little pity party?'_

"I—I don't know why you're here."

_'Bullshit.'_ he snorts leaning back against the dresser. '_This isn't the first time.'_

"Don't." I snap running my hands over my face. I'm going insane.

'_No you're not,' _ I look back up to him. _'I'm a figment of your imagination Lauren, of course I can hear your thoughts.'_

"You okay?" my attention snaps to Bo who walks in, hands buried in the towel she is drying her hair with.

"Yeah," I lie glancing back at the dresser but there is nothing there. "I just—bad dream I guess."

"That's understandable." she gives me this soft smile as she walks over to me. "I was trying to let you get a little more sleep, I hope you don't mind." she leans down giving me a quick kiss.

"No, thank you." I give her a smile and take a moment to collect my thoughts before pushing myself out of bed.

This is going to be a long day.

* * *

_**City Morgue-12:18 p.m.**_

_'You have work to be doing.' _I look up to his voice from my cellphone, a picture of him, Kenzi and Sarah on the screen. _'Don't look at me like that, this is your dog and pony show.'_

"I don't want you here, I'm perfectly fine without you." I swallow back a lump in my throat as I toss my phone down on my desk.

_'No, you're distracted and you're missing things.'_

"I'm not missing anything and I'm fine."

_'Yes you are and no you're not or I wouldn't be here, you know that.' _his hands grip the top of the guest chair to my right as he leans over, eyes peering into mine. _'Would you prefer if I were her?'_

"Don't do that, don't go there with me. I hate when you go there."

_'I'm not anything Lauren, I'm not real.' _I rub my brow with my right hand, a massive migraine beginning to set in. _'You're letting yourself get distracted and you need to get your shit together.'_

"You sound like her."

_'She was my sister.' _

"Yeah, I remember."

_'Lauren, you're giving me too much personality-you do that and my reason for being here is pointless.'_

I lean back in my chair trying to ignore the pain in my head, the pain welling in my chest at the image of him—the sound of his voice-his choice of words.

He isn't real Lauren.

"Why are you here?" I whisper it to myself more than _'him'. _

_'Your worlds are colliding again, you don't know how to deal with it. Don't blame you after the last time that happened.' _I glare up at him, the fact he is a figment of my imagination being lost on me at the moment. _'Let it go, yeah when this sadistic little song ends you and Bo will be left standing there to see where all the chips fall but right now you need her.'_

"It's not a game." I snap.

_'Everything is a game Lauren, you're forgetting that.'_

"I'm not playing anything with Bo, not anymore."

_'I'm not talking about her anymore, Get your head back in the game.' _

"What?" I let out looking up at Tamsin who is looking right back down at me as if I'm insane—I don't blame her. "What?" I repeat looking around my office to find no one other than her standing off to my right.

"I said you need to get your head back in the game Doc," she tosses a folder down on my desk. "We need you."

* * *

_**Third Floor-Detective Unit-8:06 p.m.**_

Clayton Paul-White Male-Age 7 (Laval-WENS)

Alexander Thomas-White Male-Age 7 (Laval-SUN)

Arron Samuel-White Male-Age 9 (Montreal-WENS)

Rebecca Brennen-Hispanic Female-Age 4 (Montreal-SUN)

Luke Walker-White Male-Age 6 (Montreal-WENS)

Mary Ashford-White Female-Age 4 (Montreal-SUN)

.

.

"We can stare at these names all night it's not going to change anything." Tamsin says in her highly annoyed tone as she leans back in her chair.

I don't bother looking over at her though nor up at the board anymore instead I cover my face with my hands, this migraine felt as if it was literally pulling my brain apart millimeter by millimeter.

"Don't know why we're even worried, we have a super-duper CSIS agent here to save us." Dyson laughs and I would have turned around to glare but I don't have enough patients.

"Shit see what happened to the last one?" I hear a snicker from the back of the room, I'm sure it's Burke.

"Super agents my ass." another snicker from someone I don't care to recognize.

"Why don't yall shut the hell up." Hale snaps.

"Oh that's right, ain't you an honorary member of the family bro?" the unrecognizable voice continues to antagonize, I don't have the patients for this.

"I hope you all are this amused when you're standing over another child's body." Evony's voice silence everyone, even makes me look up as she leans against the ledge of the wall that separates this room and the hallway.

Wonder where she was.

"Burke, Redford, Rutherford, James get the hell out." she snaps and waves her hand. "You're off this task force." she doesn't so much a blink an eye at their bitching and protests as they leave the room, each one making sure to shoot me a dirty look on their way out. "Now that, that is out of the way." her eyebrow raises as she turns to me with this smirk and I can't help but to return it, oh this was going no where good. "I think before we move on, we and I'm speaking for everyone here, needs a little bit of truth."

"What do you want?" I snap but it's not so much irritation at her as the previous comments and the jackhammer in my head.

"Is RCMP coming to take over?"

"I don't know," it was the truth, I hadn't had time to contact them yet. "Look at this point in time I have two options, I can either call in tell them my cover has been blown explain the situation and try to convince them to leave me on, after all no one would want the bad press pulling me off this case would bring if the newspapers found out."

"Second option?" Evony asks.

"I don't tell anyone anything, they'll send another agent-and possibly the RCMP and the FBI."

"FBI?" Hale asks but I can't stand the thought of looking back at him.

"Turns out that there were two murders in the states with the same M.O. that they are interested in, but considering my—situation it was agreed that it was better for them to let us handle things."

I get off the desk I had been occupying, gently take the marker from Bo's hand and write the two names underneath the ones already there. I smile softly at her as I hand it back but she is sort of dazed, at first I thought it was because of Evony but she is working something, searching for something.

"Thanks for sharing." Dyson snickers.

"Will there be a problem here?" Evony snaps. That's the interesting thing, people could be bad hell I've met dozens of murders but when it came to kids it was a whole other ballpark, a no fly zone. Probally the only reason all of us have managed to tolerate each other this long.

"What are you doing? You look like a damn deer in headlights?" Evony snaps at Bo who continues to stare at the board but instead of answering she goes to the board and begins writing.

.

.

Clayton **Paul**-White Male-Age 7 (Laval-WENS)

Alexander **Thomas**-White Male-Age 7 (Laval-SUN)

**Arron Samuel**-White Male-Age 9 (Montreal-_WENS_)

**Rebecca **Brennen-Hispanic Female-Age 4 (Montreal-SUN)

**Luke** Walker-White Male-Age 6 (Montreal-_WENS_)

**Mary **Ashford-White Female-Age 4 (Montreal-SUN)

Andre **Cain**-African American-Age 6 (U.S-?)

Tyresse **Philip**-African American-Age 5 (U.S-?)

.

.

"It's religiously motivated." Bo chuckles taking a step back from the board.

"OR about seventy to eight percent of Canada is Christian and name their kids according." Dyson jumps in as he walks up beside me.

"You're going to tell me that every single one of them having a biblical name and are being killed on only Wednesdays an Sundays is a coincidence?" she snorts. "I can't believe I didn't see this."

"Whoa, whoa down boys and girls." Tamsin interjects. "Lets run this a bit. What churches still go to mass on both days?"

"Mostly Baptist." Bo says under her breath beginning to look tense.

"Okay so we got the who-sorta, we got the when, but why the choice of kill?" Tamsin continues her attempt at being helpful, surprisingly she isn't all that bad when she applies herself.

"They could be um" Bo seems to trip on her words as she goes back to staring at the board. "They could be a cleansing ritual."

"Excuse me?" Dyson snorts.

"They're like baptisms, some break offs of the church especially in country type of places they adopt some interesting methods. One of which is these baptism like rituals, it's only supposed to be done when you've sinned pretty bad but some people take it more serious than others."

"How do you know so much about this? Suddenly pick up a book?" Dyson lets out in another sort as he leans against Tamsin's desk.

"No, I've had them done to me." she admits, her tone harsh and I know her words are for him but I find her staring into my own eyes. "Only a couple times, they're pretty scary but I always came away uninjured. I knew some kids though that weren't so lucky, close calls. It' the belief that if you don't survive it that the sin wasn't able to be washed away."

"What kind of backwater shit hole did you come from again?" Tamsin asks staring up at Bo with this beyond baffled look.

"Lachlan," his name leave my mouth before I even finish my thought. "We're looking for someone who had this done to them, someone who doesn't have an in depth understanding of the custom. Someone whose masking his own sick desires with the religion of his parents."

"I'm sorry what?" Dyson looks at me with this scowl.

"Could it really be that simple?" Bo asks tilting her head to the side looking directly at me. "In Matthew it says that Judas hung himself, in the Acts of the Apostles it says something about his guts spilling out."

"When did you become a fountain of knowledge?" Dyson looks over at Bo.

"There is a lot of things you don't know about me."

"We've been looking for something completely wrong." I mumble as I begin to head passed Evony who asks me where I'm going. "I need to stop them from sending Lachlan's body home."

I rush down the hall to the elevator, luckily this was Montreal and by seven p.m. most officers were already sent home or were out patrolling.

"Lauren," I turn around to her call, my hand holding the door open. "Look I know you need to go and that this is far from the time for some stupid pity party shit but I need to know something."

"Wh-what?"

"I know you know things about me, things I don't even wanna know you know but did you," she trails off looking away from me.

"I promise you," I cup her cheek with my free hand causing her to tilt her face into my touch, glassy eyes meeting mine. "I knew nothing about that." I smile softly at her and lean in, gentle kiss to her lips that she doesn't completely respond to. "Go keep being brilliant, might solve this before I even get back."

I walk into the elevator expecting it to close but her hand keeps it from closing, this seems to be a tradition of ours.

"Stop by the club house when you're done, bring food and I'll bring the files." she smiles finally. "We're gonna get this asshole." a little chuckle as she backs away letting the doors close.

* * *

_**Station Underground Parking Lot-8:53 p.m.**_

Walking around the parking lot, the only thing that can be heard is the sound of my shoes against the ground. I have to cross my arms over my chest to fight the cold—stupid I know, it's not like doing that is going to overpower the fact that I'm not wearing a sweater, call it a reflex.

It's hard to believe everything that's happened these past few months, how much my life has changed. I had no idea what I was signing up for when I started this mission, and neither did—neither did Lachlan.

As I keep waking, I have to swallow the lump in my throat and fight away the tears that threaten to come out, but I fail. I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to overcome the fact that he's no longer with us.

He was my brother, the one who alongside Kenzi, helped me get over Cassidy's death. Even if she was his sister and I knew her death broke him, he never stopped acting strong, and I know he did it for me, just so I could fall apart and he could help build me back up.

He was always so brave, and he loved Sara so much, he was so happy with the news about the baby and now—now he's gone, he's gone and there's nothing I can do to bring him back to us.

I shake the thought from my head and wipe away the tears that are now falling freely along my cheeks. I need to focus, focus on the case. Now we have a new theory that could get us closer to this fucking killer—or killers if the other part of our theory proves to be true.

I can't help but smile at this—not about the killers of course, but that Bo came up with this theory. I have known from the beginning that she has great potential; she's just too scared to really show it because she fears she might be wrong. But I truly feel that this is going to guide us towards the right direction.

"Bo". Her name escapes my lips so naturally, like I've been saying her name my entire life, but the smile I had quickly fades away because I don't know if what we have could be real or not.

I see everything that is against us, I understand what Kenzi said, and she's right, we don't know if once the case is done and we don't have to work together anymore, if there is going to be something left there, or if it's just going to be a void of something that was never real.

But I love her. I know a lot about her. I know she has trust issues—of course my lying to her about who I was did not help with that. I know that she often blames herself for things she can't control or that are not her fault.

The thing is, all of these things I know them because I've been studying her even before we started working together. So even though I know her really well, I also don't know her at all. I don't know things that a person learns from spending time with someone, basic things, like what's her favorite color—well she wears a lot of black so that could be her favorite—wait, is black technically a color? Focus Lauren, that is not important right now, the case, focus on the case.

I am brought back from my thoughts when I reach my car. I take out my car keys and before I can unlock the door, I feel something on my neck. Being a doctor, I know all too well what's going on. It's a needle; someone just stuck a needle on my neck. I can't even turn around to see who it is before my eyes start to close.

"Shit". It's all I can say before I'm completely unconscious, feeling my body fall to the ground and two strong arms holding me. What the fuck is happening?


	8. Ghost

_**Chapter Eight: Ghost**_

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_**(Lauren's POV)**_

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_**Unknown-11:22 p.m.**_

(_I'm living like a silent movie-Shut your mouth and see straight through me-Finding that you're hiding in your money-I got a million ways of losing-But nothing in my life worth proving-Chasing, all my time is wasted_)

My mind begins drifting toward apparent consciousness, the realization that I shouldn't be going along to this song dawning on me. For a moment I'm not exactly sure why going along with the song scares me so much, but it does. With every passing lyric this violent pounding within my chest causing such a sharp pain that it's hard for me to breath.

Again my muddled mind begins repeating the faint words of the song, many people didn't know this about me but music was my solace, it was my hide away.

So why now does this feel wrong?

Abruptly it dawns on me, I'm not at home in bed. I'm not in Bo's bed. I'm not at my office desk. I'm not in Evony's bed. I'm not on my office couch nor apartment couch.

I know where I'm not, the question is where am I?

No longer drifting but rather racing toward consciousness I feel my body begin to shake. My ankles are bound together with something. It's not rope there isn't enough give nor the right amount of pressure as I struggle against it. It's thick so maybe tape, but no—it's thicker and stronger. Forcing my legs to still, I begin the same fruitless fight with my hands, wrists bound as my ankles are.

Taking a several deep breaths through my nose I try and slow my heart rate, I'm not sure where I am but wherever it is, it's small. My knees are nearly in my chest, bottoms of my feet firmly pressed against something, a wall maybe as is the top of my head.

A box? A container? A coffin? A storage compartment? A trunk?

Suddenly it occurs to me I haven't opened my eyes-no they are open.

I can't see a thing.

I don't feel pain or pressure against my face so that leaves me with two immediate options, one being that I am simply in a place so dark I just can't see or two that whatever material over my eyes is so soft that I'm just not feeling it. Those are my two best choices to go with because the rest are all very morbid and quite frighting to think about.

Calm down.

Awkwardly I begin trying to twist my upper body the best I can, I just need to have my back touch the floor or a wall-any hard surface. I need to feel if my service weapon is still there, it's a far fetched chance but I need to check.

After several attempts that hurt more than it's worth the lack of pressure of something pressing into the small of my back confirms what I already knew, it's gone.

Calm down.

This wasn't me, sure I hate dark and confined spaces but who doesn't? Life's distractions have begun to catch up with me and this is a prime example. Calm, cool and collected—that's what I need to be.

Calm.

Making sure to keep my breaths small and steady I force my body to fall completely still.

Cool.

I let my body relax into the area it's been given. The pain once radiating through sixty percent of my body beginning to slow.

Collected.

What I know is that I am bound with something other than tape or rope on my wrists and ankles. Most likely there is something over my eyes but my mouth isn't taped. About sixty percent of my body is in pain but from what I can tell it's from my positioning and struggle—I don't think any damage was intentionally done. I'm in a tight, dark space but I can hear music.

I'm in a trunk.

As if some higher power was metaphorically tapping me on the head saying _'good job sport, you figured it out',_ violently my body is jarred back and forth. We took a rather abrupt right turn, I'm still jerking but not as violently and beyond the music I can hear the faint sound of gravel underneath the tires-we're on a dirt road. If I had to guess I would say we're going about twenty miles an hour now, we've quickly slowed from when we took the turn. Whatever road we're on must prevent him from going any faster.

A soft voice in the back of my mind, a voice from another life-another me begins to tell me this would be the time to start praying.

The much louder, dominate voice, the one that's far more logical and cynical tells that one to fuck off and I can't help but coldly chuckle to myself. Here I am kidnapped by a sick, sadistic asshole and I'm approaching having an argument with none other than myself.

Classic Lauren.

I use every ounce of self control and will power to keep my mind clear. I don't want to think about Bo. I don't want to think about Kenzi. I don't want to think about Lachlan. I don't want to think about anyone or anything but being in this moment. I can't think about them. I can't afford the luxury of emotion at this moment. I simply can't worry about how Bo is going to feel when she is sitting there waiting for me and I don't show. I can't wonder how long it will take her to realize I am missing. I can't wonder how Kenzi will take the death of another sibling. I can't bare the thought that she will be completely alone again, that Hale may actually leave her because of this all. I can't think about Sarah having no one to rely on to bury my brother-and myself while taking care of a broken Kenzi. I can't think about all of those kids I am breaking my promise to and all of the ones that will die because I won't be able to stop it. I can't think of the effect this will have on an already fragile Bo. I can't think of how I'm letting Lachlan down.

The image of Bo comes to mind and I shake my head slightly as if that will wipe it away, wishful thinking I guess.

Rolling my eyes at myself I nearly miss the fact that we've pulled to a stop and the sound of one of the doors, presumably the driver's side has just slammed shut. I can hear the gravel beneath his weight cracking, five steps and there is nothing but silence. No music, no sounds of the car nor the sound of gravel being crushed either by tires or feet. Just silence and that is scarier than anything.

I hear the trunk pop open and I still can't see a thing but I know I am looking up at him, I'm not sure how but I just know that I am. The weirdest part is that I think he's looking right back at me.

"Come on." he says, his voice low and husky yet with a hint of silkiness to it.

He grabs both sides of my arms just beneath my shoulders and pulls me from the trunk near effortlessly, he has to be six foot at least and athletic to be able to lift me the way he does. He doesn't even make a huff, not even a shallower breath. I don't imagine him being built like a football player after all someone would have noticed a guy like that stalking around but he's strong.

Is he on something? Is he just in a constant state of mania hence the unexplained amount of strength? Or simply has he just done this so many times that he has built a tolerance to dead weight?

I feel the circulation returning to my legs that I hadn't even realized had fallen asleep, the pain near excruciating. But what I am really focused on is that his left hand keeps firm while the right leaves my arm. His chest presses against me as he reaches over and goes to shut the trunk.

My already racing heart begins to go a little faster and I swear the world stops.

Instinct, human nature, survival need-whichever you choose to call it, it kicked into over drive.

Without further thought I tilt my head back before slamming it where I would assume his would be. I get his jaw, I know because I can hear the sound of his teeth snap together. It's a hard enough blow to jolt me for a moment but it also knocks him back. Fists balled together I slam them against him, I was sure I would hit his groin but I'm not that lucky. I'm close though, lower stomach I would guess by the reaction.

I think he falls but I can't be sure.

I go to run but find myself falling right into the ground, the gravel cutting my forearms for sure.

"Fuck!" I cry out as I roll onto my back bringing my legs up, fingers pulling at the restraint around my ankles.

It takes a second but I realize what it is, it's heavy-duty Velcro strap of some kind. Smart. Trembling fingers desperately trying to pull the thick strip apart only grow further unsteady as I begin to hear footsteps. It's two and he's on me but I haven't freed myself.

Instinct once again taking over I kick out so hard I hear my own knee crack but it works, I've hit his lower stomach again. I hear two quick steps and a thud presumably as he hits the car. I know I should pull whatever this is off my eyes but I only have seconds, what does it matter if I can see if I can't run.

Pulling at the strap again I hear it begin to loosen, I know I don't have enough time to get it off, not fully and my luck is bound to run out soon if it hasn't already. Using every ounce of strength I have left I pull the strap up while pushing my right leg down hoping against hope that I can manage to pull my left ankle through the tiny bit of space I've managed. My shoe falling off as I manage to get my foot out slightly, my heel now stuck.

The pain is near unbearable, the fear is even worse as I hear him approaching.

I let go of the strap and kick out again but hit nothing-he's beside me.

It's too late.

* * *

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_**Bo's POV**_

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_**Tuesday**_

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_**The Club House—12:36 a.m.**_

"Can you say stupid?" I snicker to myself as I shake my head, right hand rubbing the back of my neck.

I continue flipping through the pages of the file in front of me though my eyes are on the alarm clock next to my bed. I just want to know how I can keep falling for this, how?

Reaching over I grab my phone and big surprise no new messages or calls. I've left her several, okay I'm playing it cool, I've left her seven messages-to be lying, I've left her twelve texts and three calls.

I have to keep reminding myself she isn't my girlfriend, I know this. She is my-I'm not sure what exactly she is but I know she isn't that. I won't lie despite everything there is a part of me that wants that still but then things like this happen and all I can think about is here is another lie.

I want to believe she has just been caught up but then I keep remembering everything she has lied about.

"Fuck it." huffing to myself I kick off the bed and stomp over to the door where my shoes are.

What exactly am I doing?

Who the hell knows anymore.

Stomping down the stairs and through the darkness of my apartment I know I look like a child but then again whose actually seeing me?

I grab my keys and gun off the little covey in the wall before heading out not even bothering to lock the door, I want to say it's just because I am so badass that I don't think anyone would dare break into my shithole but honestly I'm just to distracted to even realize it until I'm halfway down the stairs.

I mean really what was I going to say if I found her at home just chillaxing and blowing me off?

I'm being crazy, I can tell but I need to know. I need to know if I can trust her or at least make an attempt at trusting her again.

Pulling the car door open I find myself freeze, this odd feeling coming over me. Casually I look to my left down the alley and then to the right. Shitty lighting makes it near pointless really especially on top of all the dumpsters and doorways someone could within.

Taking another breath I give one last quick glance around before getting into my car and quickly pulling off. If someone really was there watching me, following me then they'd have to tail me and that would be easy to catch at this time of night.

I wonder when all this is said and done if this will remain her apartment or will she move again. I wonder, does she really enjoy this line of work. I wonder what it is she gets out of this because honestly I don't see the upside of it. To be so emotionally closed off, so shut down. I mean I am, in a sense but it's not by choice, not really.

I pull up into the no parking zone but really, what are they gonna give ME a ticket?

Snorting at the idea I go to pull out my phone but it's not there, tapping the other pocket to find nothing. Sighing to myself and at my apparently infinite stupidity I get out and head into the building and straight for the stairs.

I really hope Kenzi isn't here, I can't deal with that right now.

Making it halfway up the first flight of stairs I find my legs lock, attention snapping to behind myself. Dim lights and carpeted stairs but nothing else-so why do I feel like I'm being watched. I can't explain it, I really can't but this time is worse than the last. I didn't see anyone tailing me, I made sure to keep an eye out.

Could it be her little CSIS friends? They could watch both places and not have to tail me.

Shaking off the thought I begin heading towards her apartment again, the feeling is still there but I'm not going to keep looking. This could be her CSIS friends or this could just be a tired mind playing tricks on itself, it wouldn't be the first time.

I knock on the door and wait but nothing. I knock again a little harder and then again but there is nothing at all, not a peep. Kenzi could be with Hale hashing shit out but if Lauren isn't here hiding from me then where the hell could she be?

I start to walk away but this annoying voice in the back of my head says try again, so I turn back intending to knock but instead I find my hand on the doorknob.

"Not smart," I chuckle to myself as I push the door open.

Slowly I walk in but it's empty, doesn't look like anyone has been here in at least a day. It's all too neat and perfect, sort of like when you clean before taking a vacation, only thing was if they were going to pull her-them, then this place would have been empty by now.

I leave the door open as I walk in further, another glance around waiting to spot something out of the ordinary but there's nothing. I know Kenzi so Lauren must be cleaning this place top to bottom ten times a day. Against my better judgment I jog up the stairs and glance around, every door just slightly open but no one here. It's unusual how perfect this place is, near staged really.

Cautiously I push her bedroom door open to find more of the same.

_'She's a cop,' _I think to myself with a nod while ignoring the twinge of pain in the back of my heart.

Going to the nightstand I pull the drawer open but it's nothing important, another pair of glasses, a pen, phone charger. Pushing the draw shut I reach under feeling around, takes but a second and I'm pulling out her badge and her ankle piece.

If she did run or was even pulled there's not a chance in hell these would still be here, better question is was she wearing her service weapon tonight? I can't remember for the life of me if she was.

Am I being paranoid? Am I being crazy? What does this really prove?

I toss the two things on the bed and take a single step back readying to turn to leave, head back to the club house and hell if she wasn't there then I don't know but I have a case to work. Sadly though like most of this night it doesn't happen that way. A tiny thud so quiet that had a car been passing by outside I wouldn't have heard it, hell if I was breathing any heavier I wouldn't have heard it.

Taking a step to my right I kneel down, left hand on the mattress as I pull this six inch by six inch box out. It has a lock, one of those spinning numbers type deal on the front but this has been popped open.

I flip it open and can't help but raise an eyebrow, it's a bunch of b.s. Nothing you'd want to break into something for. Some old folded pieces of paper, hand written notes. A rubber banded wad of photos, the first being a woman I don't recognize, maybe her foster mother. I can't help but chuckle as I pull out an old rosary from underneath it all, guess she isn't as over that part of her life as she said.

Big surprise, another lie.

I go to drop it back into the box but something catches my eye, a single picture by itself. She doesn't seem the type to leave things out of place which makes this curious. Turning the box over letting the shit fall onto the mattress I pick up the picture. An older one obviously, it's one of those perfect pictures that make you want to roll your eyes, just everything looks so damn perfect and staged but it's not. Some woman and Lachlan hugging to my right, Lauren and Caissdy hugging to my left with a much younger Kenzi in the middle of the two pairs.

I just stare at the photo for a moment, a mixture of emotions.

The most dominate one is this sense of bother, at first I think it's because I see how happy she looks with Cassidy but it's not that. It's-I don't know.

Placing the photo down I push myself up and start back out, down the hall and then the stairs, that ire feeling rushing back to me. Someone was here I know it, I don't know how but I do. I look around and again there is nothing but I know this time I'm not crazy.

I pick the hand-held up from the side table.

_**(Lauren, where have you been I've been trying to get a hold of you. Wait, why the hell are you calling Hale's cell?)**_

"Kenzi, it's Bo. Look I can't explain but give me to Hale."

_**(Hello?)**_

"Hale, look I need you to do me a favor and do it without asking any questions."

_**(We really haven't made up to the point of asking me favors-)**_

"Hale." I snap. "Listen to me carefully and try to remain as emotionless as possible. I think something is wrong, Lauren never turned up tonight and now I'm here and-shits off."

_**(How off?)**_

"Off like I'm heading in to talk to Evony."

_**(That really is off.)**_

"Yeah."

_**(Alright, what do you need?)**_

"I need you to go to Lachlan's hotel."

_**(Oh yeah no problem, just one thing. How the hell you think I'ma get passed the CSIS that are circling?)**_

"Something tells me they won't be there. Just listen, get there ASAP and search for something for me. Most likely a small box. I think I'm getting a feel for this family and something tells me they do shit in pairs, so it'll be like six by six, some type of lock that you won't need to worry about."

_**(This makes no sense but alright.)**_

"I don't care what's inside except for a rosary or a cross maybe, just something religious and a picture that you'll know when you see it."

_**(What?) **_He snorts almost laughing at me.

"Look, we thought that maybe Lachlan had a lead, that he was checking something out and that's what happened right? What if that isn't what happened, what if this guy isn't just stalking kids, what if he was stalking us too?"

_**(But why Lachlan?)**_

"Convenience. The rest of us all live with someone, or in buildings with security, places where people know who should and shouldn't be there. If this guy is a religious freak like we're thinking then finding that-"

**(Would set him off. What am I supposed to do with Kenz, hm? One whiff of this and I'm sure she'll be calling in the feds.)**

"I doubt it, this is her sister. They'd order her to stand down, wait till they'd get here. Take her with you, she might be able to help you find it sooner."

**(Can't I just ask her if he has something like that?)**

"It doesn't matter if he does or doesn't, in order for this theory to be right, it needs to have been seen by this asshole." I pause taking two steps to my right at the sound of steps. "Hurry, I'm heading to the station. I don't have my cell so call there when you get what we need." I rush my words as I toss the phone on the couch without looking.

Swallowing at the dryness in my throat I cautiously walk back up to the open door and surprise there's nothing there yet again but something is off about all of this, everything is off.

Reaching behind myself I pull the door shut again, I don't bother seeing if I can lock it. For what? There's a seventy-five percent chance someone was already in there and that's low-balling it, if this guy did break into the apartment he already got what he wanted and if he did take Lauren then he wasn't going to be coming back here anytime soon.

I jog down the stairs, I suppose I should have been cautious for my own safety or hope of possibly catching my unseen stalker but for what? If this guy wanted me he was going to jump out at me no matter how cautious I am being and if I am just being paranoid I waste valuable time.

I don't even bother to check the street as I make my exit and slide into my car.

Six blocks down and I realize I haven't checked my mirrors once, snorting at myself I take a quick glance before I make a soft right turn. I don't know why I didn't, honestly I hadn't even realized I made it six blocks already.

My mind isn't here, it's somewhere else.

On her.

Is she okay? Is this another game? Another lie to add to the never ending web? Is she injured? What is real and what is a lie? Who is the real her? What really happened with Cassidy and Cane? Is she even still alive?

I shake the thoughts off as I near the station, I can't think about that now. Honestly I don't even know if she is taken, this all could just be me grasping at straws to make my B and E slash obsessive jealousy reasonable.

Driving through the parking lot and down into the underground area I make another attempt at shaking the thoughts but like most things I attempt in life, I fail. I don't want to admit it but I'm terrified. There is just something inside of me that knows something is very wrong.

I may not be the smartest or the wisest or the best at anything really but I know what I saw when I looked into her eyes last night before she left, it was genuine.

Pulling into a parking spot rather far from the door considering I had been so entangled in my thoughts I had driven right passed. For the best I suppose, a little walk will give me time to gather my thoughts on just how exactly I was going to present this to Evony.

"Hey." A pair of patrol officers say as they walk passed me and I just give a nod.

Not a clue who they are but that whole family in blue is a real thing, so simple and polite acts like that are expected. After all they are expected to put their life on the line for me in a moments notice and I for them so a simple 'hey' or head nod isn't too much to ask for in my book.

This time it's me who initiates the pleasantries as I nod at another uniformed officer walking by. I know he says something and I would have looked back to answer him, in fact I think I even started to except my eyes catch the tail end of Lauren's car grabbing my full attention.

I stop and just stare at it for a moment, was it really her's?

Walking up to the driver's side window I peek in, it's unlocked considering that stupid, little red alarm light isn't blinking in the corner of the windshield. Grabbing a hold of the handle I hesitate for a moment, it's only a moment though. Leaning in right knee on the seat as I grab a hold of the steering wheel with my left hand for balance I pop open the glove box, my heart sinking.

Her service weapon is here, her cover is already blown so why she wouldn't carry it would make no sense to me. Hell the fact her car is unlocked makes no sense to me. Shuffling the shit around inside I feel her phone, I'm almost positive she had this on her in the station-her gun I couldn't remember but her phone I would bet a month's salary on. Taking the phone and shoving it in my pocket before shutting the compartment and moving back until I'm just standing beside the car.

Her weapon and phone are in the glove box and the car is unlocked but no sign of her or the keys.

Theory one, she got in the car tossed her phone and possibly weapon in the glove and then got snatched in which the guy took the keys because someone would most likely notice keys in the ignition. Only problem is how did he get her out of the car considering her stupid car locks the second the car is turned on.

Theory two, he got her before making it to the car and he intentionally placed the items back in the car but why? What would that do?

Shaking my head to myself as I take another step back while pushing the door shut.

"Shit!" I can't help but yell as I stumble a step back and hit the car.

"Jumpy?" Dyson just smirks down at me, smug bastard couldn't be more amused.

"The hell are you sneaking up on me for?" I stand back up straight trying not to act embarrassed by my reaction and the fact that I got snuck up on. Sure it's just Dyson but it could have been anyone, hell if Evony had done that I'm almost sure it would have been my badge. First the alley incident and then allowing myself to get snuck up on? Very least would have gotten another writeup.

"Just testing those newly sharpened intuitive skills," he wiggles his eyebrows and just keeps smirking at me like a Cheshire cat. "Hate to break it to you Bo," he brushes a strand of hair from my face as he leans down just a bit almost as if he's going to kiss me, I know the move well. "Still needs a little work."

"Either try and kiss me so I can kick you in the nuts giving you a quick lesson in no means no or back up." I don't mean to sound as cold as I do, I wasn't trying to be playful either but I just wasn't trying to be a complete bitch though apparently my tone had other intention.

"Yes ma'am." he raises his hands dramatically with a laugh as he backs away and rather than coming up with a remark I walk by him, around the car and start back toward the station. "She okay with you going through her car?"

"Believe me I think she'll appreciate it this time."

"I don't know about that, Feds are kinda irrational about their privacy."

"Yeah well," I pause as he pulls the door open for me, I find myself looking at him just really looking at him. "Have you been out?"

"What?" he chuckles.

"Yeah, have you been out hitting the streets?" he shakes his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "Then what are you doing in the parking lot?"

"I'm stalking you." he says flatly, this slight raise in his left eyebrow, his tone so flat I can feel my eyes widen in surprise.

"What?"

"Bo, I'm fucking with you." he snorts out, shaking his head while letting out a slight laugh. "My wallet was in my car, I was going to order some food from Wong's. Food's shit but the only place open at this hour." he smiles at me, this softened sort of saddened look that I took him serious at first.

"It really is." I smile and shake off the thought of-well I don't really know what I was thinking.

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_**Lauren's POV**_

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_**Unknown—2:24 a.m.**_

Despite the heaviness, despite the pain I force my eyelids open to half mass. Unlike last time I'm a lot clearer about my situation, my location on the other hand is another story entirely. It's not pitch black anymore nor do I have something covering my eyes, there is this faint light that takes my eyes only seconds to grow accustomed to. On instinct I start to situp but find myself falling right back down with a thud, my forehead hitting something rather hard.

"Smart." I snort to myself.

I wiggle my feet in which I end up tapping something equally as smooth as it is hard. Next I wiggle my fingers and apart from hitting my thighs I earn the same tapping, I think it's wood. Forcing my eyes to focus I realize the light is seeping in through cracks in the cover of this box-coffin.

I feel my heart jump from zero to a hundred, my palms moistening and suddenly I'm all too aware of everything. For example the weird, dried substance covering the right side of my face that makes it painful to make an expression, I assume it's blood. He must have broken skin when he knocked me out. Another thing I can tell now or rather feel is a gash across my right forearm, I think it might be fractured too. I close my eyes wiggling my fingers again, a hazy flash of my arm being smashed with the trunk door as I reach out from something—maybe I'm not reaching out. I can't be sure, it's so hazy as it plays back in my mind like a flash.

Suddenly I hear a voice in the distance, I think it's his. He's talking to someone, I know I should be trying to listen, trying to gain information of some kind but all I can think about is that I'm trapped. Trapped in a coffin. I'm in a fucking coffin and I my not be underground yet but people don't put you in one of these without that intent. I know what will happen next. He's gonna bury me alive.

I feel my body begin to push against the walls before I had made up my mind. There isn't enough room for me to try and kick the bottom out and with only the use of one good arm I can't get the top off, even with two good arms I doubt I would anyway, he's probably nailed it shut.

This can't be how I die.

I can't die in some box buried somewhere no one will ever find me. I can't die a slow and painful death knowing every single symptom that comes up, knowing exactly what to expect next.

I force myself to be still, to just lay here. I know I'm bleeding from at least two places, panicking and increasing my heart-rate will only cause me to bleed out faster. Maybe he is only holding me here, maybe he needs to keep me immobilized until Wednesday—what day is it?

_'I'm in a coffin-I'm in a coffin-Don't panic Lauren-Calm down,' _

The same four short sentiences playing on a loop in my mind for God knows how long. It must have been a while though since his very heated conversation has fizzled out. I wait to hear footsteps, I wait to hear anything other than the howling of the wind and my own rasp breathing but there is nothing.

I'm alone.

* * *

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_**Bo's Pov**_

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_**Station-Third Floor-Homicide Unit—2:37 a.m.**_

"Lauren's job is lying, her life is all about lies. People like her lie like we breathe, press Kenzi and I'm sure you'll turn up with something."

"Hale's with her, she would have said something by now."

"Kenzi, the girl who is aiming to follow in her sister's footsteps would roll over without so much as a direct question?"

"Evony this isn't about our history right now. It's not even about your and her history. I am telling you something happened." I run my hand through my hair trying to get it out of my face as I glare down at her.

She didn't have a reputation for being fair but she did have one for being smart and saving her own ass. Letting a CSIS agent die in her territory when she could have done something would without a doubt end her prize career and none of her connections nor my grandfather's would be able to help her there.

"Evony, please listen to me." I say softly, eyes locked with hers. "Something is wrong."

"It hasn't even been twelve hours nor is there any proof other than a theory from someone who up until last week couldn't piece together a decent one of her own if her life depended on it."

"Okay." I nod and moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue. Guess bitch mode it is then. "Not a problem." I nod again as I walk toward the door.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Just like that?" she sorts through this cocky smirk that makes me want to jump across her desk and slap it off.

"Yeah just like that." another nod as I pull the door open half way before turning to look at her. "It won't be my job on the chopping block Evony. I'm going to go to my desk and fill out a report that I informed you of my suspicion and then I'm going to fax it to Lauren's office and wait. They probably won't get it until morning and won't get here till afternoon, won't be until early evening that they are caught up and able to even start looking. By that time who knows what could happen." I give a little shrug. "Just think of the headlines, not only did you let a CSIS agent die when you could have prevented it but most likely the guy who did it is the same Montreal Boogyman, so by proxy you also let him get away too."

I don't bother waiting for a response, instead I walk out shutting her door behind me and walk back to my desk. She might think I am bluffing but I'm not. I don't know anything else I can do to help Lauren on my own so if I have to throw myself along with Evony under the bus to save her then so be it.

Sitting down I pull a pen and a paper from my desk and start to write but I stop short, 'Dear CSIS' being as far as I get.

It's not just me and Evony I would be throwing under the bus by doing this, by willingly asking them to come here.

I look up glancing at Hale's empty desk and then over at Dyson's, he's run off somewhere again. Tamsin's at her desk, typing on her computer completely oblivious to anything happening. I feel this sick spiral in my stomach, was I really willing to throw everyone down for her?

I glace up and catch a smirking Evony standing in her doorway, just watching me.

I guess I am.

I smirk myself with a nod and begin to read aloud as I write.

_'Dear CSIS,_

_My name is Bo Dennis a name you apparently know well, I work directly under Evony Morgan another name I know you are familiar with. As of mid-night I had become suspicious something may have happened to your agent Lauren Lewis. Under further inspection I am sure of this. At approximately two-thirty a.m. I informed my boss and have pleaded with her for a further investigation, she refuses to do so. '_

"Should I continue?" I raise an eyebrow as I look back up to her, that smirk wiped clean off of her face.

"Be careful who you play with little girl."

_' I feel if there is any hope in order to save your agent I must surpass my chain of command. Due to the fact that your agent is here investigation us I feel it has weighed heavily on my boss' decision to act as _

_Sincerely,_

_Detective Bo Dennis. ' _

"What's going on?" I hear Hale's voice accompanied by his footsteps but my eyes stay locked with Evony's.

"Who gives a shit." Kenzi barks walking passed him and to my desk. "This is the picture you wanted?" she slams it down on my desk and reluctantly I have no choice but to look down at it.

"Yeah, that's the one."

"There wasn't anything religious in the box though." Hale says as he leans against the corner of Tamsin's desk.

"There should have been, a green rosary which is pretty old, it's identical to one of the ones you found in Lauren's room when you were snooping." Kenzi says, her words trailing as she stares down at the picture-or maybe she is reading my note.

"I wasn't snooping I found it by accident. You should be happy I did otherwise," I pause as I push my seat out a little. "There is only one rosary in the box."

"You must not know how to count then because there is two. The green one is Cassidy's and then she has her own, a crystal one that matches my own. They were a gift from someone, no matter how Lauren feels she wouldn't throw it out."

"The son of a bitch is taking trophies." Evony snorts as she walks over to us, reaching onto my desk she grabs my paper and crumples it up all the while holding my gaze. "We checked the rooms if anything was missing we never checked the personal effects from the bodies."

"Only like two of the victims had personal effects, a stuffed animal and a," Tamsin trails off as she looks down at her desk.

"They all have religious names and were targeted by a religious freak, I'd bet you my year's salary they all were wearing something religious. Necklace, cross, rosary, bracelet, anything." Evony finally looks away from me. "Tamsin grab Dyson and two other patrol cars, I want you at every house of the parents of these kids finding out if they wore something."

"Yeah sure, but it's like three in the morning." she says as she stands and pulls her jacket from behind her chair.

"Their kids were murdered and this fuck is continuing to pick off children at random, something tells me they'll be okay with an early wake-up call if it helps us catch him."

"Sure, sure but exactly how does this help us?"

"Religious killers are one type of beast, trophy killers are another. You combined the two and we have a whole other type, a type that can narrow down the list from say thirty percent to maybe ten." I say standing up myself.

"What exactly are we doing about my sister though?" Kenzi cuts in.

"You aren't an agent yet, let us handle this." Evony sort of snaps before she heads back to her office, I know she is calling to inform our bosses and Trick of these new developments, of my lack of loyalty.

"If you think for one second I am about to sit back and wait for the incompetent Brady Bunch to handle my sister's abduction you've been sniffing a little too much of that so called misplaced evidence."

"I was just going to say for you and Hale to go back to the hospital, find out if there is anything about Lachlan's body that can help. We know where found him and yeah it looked like he got killed there but check for something else, anything else."

"Like what?" Hale asks as he stands back up.

"Anything. I have to go back to my apartment."

"Feeling a little sleepy? Need a nappy in the middle of trying to save my sister's life?"

"No." I say flatly, reminding myself that this girl is just scared. "The files are there, I'm going to run through them again quickly to look for something that might have been missed while everyone else does their jobs. Hopefully we'll come up with something."

"And if not?"

Well that was the million dollar question wasn't it?

I don't know.

* * *

_**The Club House—3:19 a.m.**_

I roll my shoulders for the fifth or sixth time as I stomp up the stairs, I haven't felt that-presence I guess you could say but there is this weight that hasn't stopped following me. Worry? Sadness? Pain? Hurt? Something I haven't yet come to terms with?

I keep thinking about what Trick is going to say when I talk to him. I know by now Evony has told him that I was willing to sacrifice myself, sacrifice everyone to save Lauren. I could spin a million and one lies to try and get myself out of the trouble it's bound to cause but what's the point now? I made my decision and there is no going back, this is life and some decisions can't be undone.

Another thing I can't stop thinking about is Lachlan. His body just hanging there on display with his insides on the out. I can't help but wonder if that's what he has in store for her. I can't help but wonder what all the training of her's is gonna do now, Lachlan was tall and fit, if he didn't stand a chance then little, tiny Lauren has close to none.

I swallow back the sickness rising in my throat as I turn the doorknob and walk into my apartment. Why I found myself back here I wasn't sure, what I was sure of was that I had combed those files a million times and doing it one more time wasn't going to bring me any closer to an answer on who this guy is or where Lauren is. But it beat sitting at my desk waiting for reports while getting stared down by Evony.

Dyson and Tamsin were on the connecting the trophy-dots. Patrol was on city watch. Hale and Kenzi were off searching for something useful from Lachlan's body. I couldn't do nothing.

I can't help but sigh as I look down at the files spread over my bed. Hundreds of pages of information that are near useless. Tens of thousands of words that only manage to push us inches forward in locating this sick bastard. The sad truth was that ninety-nine point nine percent of the time with every kill we should grow closer to catching him but this time we just seem to be going in circles, every once and a while the circle seems to narrow but it's always a constant loop.

Running my hand through my hair for the umpteenth time I turn my back to the bed and let myself nearly fall to the floor. I didn't want the comfort of my bed, it would give me the false sense that everything was okay, that it was okay to relax and it's not.

Rubbing my eyes roughly I keep them closed and try to ignore the feeling of tears. I had been so wrapped up in trying to convince myself and then others that she was missing I didn't stop to think about it, not really. Didn't stop to really think about everything that could be being done to her. Didn't stop to think about the horrors she was most likely going through. Didn't stop to think she could be dead already.

Don't think about that.

Think about finding her.

* * *

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_**Lauren's Pov**_

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_**Unknown-6:45 a.m.**_

A cold draft accompanied by the faint sound of birds pulls me toward a dreaded consciousness I had hopped was a sick nightmare.

I try to stretch my stiff muscles the best I can but it does little to nothing, though I do get my neck to crack. The pain in my forearm still there but it's not as bad as it was the last time I was awake-whenever that was.

I want to say it's morning but I can't be sure. The light seems to be a little sharper now and the birds are new, perhaps it's five or six in the morning. I'm sure Bo has had to notice I've gone missing-hopefully.

I tap my feet against the bottom board trying to regain full feeling but all it does is remind me that I am going to need to pee soon. The thought of just doing it now crosses my mind for the second time but I'm not there yet.

The sound of my stomach rumbling distracts me, one ailment to the next.

I wonder if screaming would do anything other than grab his attention, after all this guy was psychotic not stupid, he couldn't be to pull off everything he has. He wouldn't keep me anywhere where someone would simply stumble upon me.

I can't help as my mind wanders back onto the elephant in the tiny, coffin-is he going to bury me? Why would he? He drowned children and he gutted my brother, why bury me alive? Why take me at all, it was Bo who was really making progress not me—not that I would want her to be here instead of myself but—-maybe I would actually. It's a horrible thought but I have greater faith in my own investigative abilities than hers.

_'Lauren,'_

I think disapprovingly to myself.

I didn't want to think like that, I didn't want to but all I can seem to do now is run through every unsolved case file that squad has. Run through every mistake she has made since I've met her.

'_Lauren, she's going to find you,'_

That same stern, disapproving tone in the back of my head says.

I want to believe that. I want to believe that everything I've seen from her lately is enough to pull her through this. I want to believe that the amount of potential I believe I've seen is really there and any minute she is going to come storming in and save me.

But all I can think about now is how much blood I've lost, how much pain I'm in and how cramped I am. All I can think about is the fact that I am in a coffin awaiting a killer to return. All I can think about is the three possibilities I have of dying.

Drowning. Gutting. Buried alive.

* * *

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_**Bo's Pov**_

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_**Thomson Street—1:17 p.m.**_

"I'm sorry, we got nothing."

I hear his raspy voice say for the fifth time to me today but I keep my forehead pressed against the top of my car, arms draped over it as well. I just couldn't bring myself to look up and watch the tactical team coming out of another dead-end house with their heads hanging as if they had been the ones letting me down.

This house like the four before it were dead-ends, two drug users and one pornographic promoter arrested but no Lauren. The six houses Dyson and Tamsin oversaw and the nine Hale and unofficially Kenzi oversaw all turning up with similar results. An order from those above Evony's head to check out the fifty people who wrote Cane the most in near by areas. Evony may have been pissed at me for my so called lack of loyalty to her, to them but with every passing hour her desire to find Lauren grew. Whether it was out of self preservation, a desire to earn some brownie points or some odd sense of responsibility to her I didn't know but honestly I didn't care. Whatever it was it made her call in favors to grab extra tactical officers for this. With any luck we'd be done by three thirty.

What we'd do then I had no clue but hopefully it would be more productive than this.

Groaning I reach into my pocket as I feel my phone begin to go off.

"Yeah?"

_**(House ten down, we got nothing. Correction we got a shit load of sick pricks but as far as anyone capable or credible of taking old girl? Naw.)**_

"Did you really think we would Hale? I mean seriously, this is just more hoops to jump through."

_**(Look,)**_

"What?" I ask when he falls silent for a good ten seconds.

_**(There's some rambling that Evony is going to expand this search, add another twenty or some bullshit number of houses for us to hit. I know a guy, we're cool.)**_

"Okay?"

_**(Say the word and Kenzi will cover these guys and I'll come take your place.)**_

"Thanks, but until I can come up with another plan-I may as well stay on the perv patrol. Beats sitting at the desk waiting."

_**(Just say the word.)**_

"I will. Oh and Hale, thank you."

_**(Anytime.)**_

* * *

_**Durham Road—3:58 p.m.**_

Almost twenty-four hours.

I run my hands over my face as I press the back of my head against the headrest. This was the fifth house in a row I hadn't even bothered to get out of the car for. There was no point, there was no point to any of this.

Dyson was right as he often is, I wasn't cut out for this.

"Holy shit!" I let out as I jump at the sound of my passenger side door opening and closing in matter of three seconds, if that. "What the hell?" my tone still a little higher than normal as I stare at Evony.

"You shouldn't be here."

"I could say the same to you." I snort and shake my head while looking back out onto the street, I was sure I hadn't been crying but now with her here I can't be sure. I want to wipe my face again to be sure but if I had I didn't want to draw anymore attention.

"They don't want her found." her words as cold as the thought of them being true.

"But you do?" the question soaked in so much skepticism I don't think I could have added any more if I tried.

"Do you know the term self-preservation?" she turns to look at me with this dead look but I can't help but to notice the extra layer of makeup she has skillfully applied around her eyes. Do I dare say she's been crying?

But why? For Lauren? For what her bosses are going to make her do? For the fact of realizing that saving Lauren ends her career and most likely her freedom as well? For the realization that this may be another body added to the already asinine total because she didn't bother to train her department properly?

"Lauren, Lachlan, Kenzi it doesn't matter the name they all come from the same place and believe me Bo that place has a never ending supply of people to send for us. Lauren dies this week and next week we have another two or five or ten standing at our door."

"So what you're saying is her life is basically a fucking insurance policy to you?" I can't help the cold chuckle that accompanies my snort.

"Yes!" she yells loud enough to grab a passing officer's attention. "It's time you grew the fuck up Bo, this story doesn't have a happy ending. There isn't a rainbow at the end of the tunnel. When this ends you two aren't running off to buy a house and get a dog and pop out some kids."

"You don't think I know that?"

"No, I don't. You aren't trying to find a fellow officer or a friend or a victim, you are trying to find a lover. I can't tell you what to do and hell I don't really give a shit if when all this is said and done you're standing there with your heart in your hand but a friendly word of advice start thinking about her as an insurance policy, as a get out of jail free card."

"With all due respect Evony." I tilt my head back to the side to face her. "Get the fuck out of my car."

* * *

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_**Lauren's Pov**_

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_**Unknown—6:13 p.m.**_

My eyes open to blackness and for a moment I panic, body jerking and I know I should have been unable to move considering the six hard walls that have kept me immobile for God knows how long but this time I find myself falling over onto my side.

"Don't struggle." I hear his voice, this low and rasp near whisper and I can't help but to think of batman. "Try anything and you'll find yourself back in the coffin." I'm not sure why he needs to say this until moments later I hear footsteps approaching, wood creaking underneath his weight. Then his hands are grabbing the sides of my arms again and pulling me back up to a sitting position, the back of my head hitting a beam of some kind. "Hm." he sort of snorts as he backs away. "Whores always follow direction."

I don't say anything to that, after all what am I supposed to say? I'm not a whore? Don't call me that? What good would it do at this point? Besides it's not like I'm really in a position to argue with him.

He just stands there watching me like an animal ready to slaughter. I can't see him but I KNOW he hasn't moved and I KNOW he is looking right at me, it may sound crazy but I swear he's looking into my eyes.

"Do you know how they used to kill your kind?"

"Stoning." the word passes my lips in dry whisper. "Is that what you're going to do? Stone me?" I don't know why I'm speaking, that little voice in the back of my mind telling me to shut up but that other one has just said fuck it.

"Whores deserve their fate."

"Yeah well," I can't help but chuckle and let my head hang a bit. "He who is without sin shall cast the first stone, right?"

"Shut your mouth."

"Sorry, just find it sort of ironic that a child killer is judging me."

"Shut. Your. Mouth. You do not speak his words whore!"

"That's actually a butchering of the quote-I can recite the actual line if you would like." I hear his steps though this time instead of four there is only two and they're heavier. My mind going to ponder the question of why only to be detoured by the sting across my face as I fall back onto my left side. "So, I'll take that as a no?" a small chuckle as I cough out a mouthful of blood.

"Lies, blasphemy and sin are all that come from your kind."

"Well you got the first and third right."

"Hold your tongue." he snaps grabbing my jaw and pulling me back to a seated position. "Or I will cut it from you mouth."

For once I heed the warning from the passively soft voice who I've until now kept a deaf ear to. He releases his hold and just stands there with poise near a statuesque giant. Several heavy breaths passing before I hear the growing familiar creak of the wood as he puts a much appreciated amount of distance between us but it's not far, never far.

I believe in the Devil and I believe in evil, I've seen it. I've dealt with hundreds, probably thousands of people but only a handful would I ever classify as truly evil. You could look at any garden variety killer and say that he's evil but I just see someone whose pathetic, stupid, weak, sick, disgusting or any and all of the above but truly evil I had seen four times in my life, two of which related to Cane but now I think, no I believe I can add him to the list.

It wasn't just that he was killing children though that did put him on the fast track to the classification. It wasn't that he was terrorizing an entire city, actually more than one. It wasn't that he had killed my brother and had taken me captive.

It was the feeling that I got near him. It was the chill down my spine and the sick twist in the pit of my stomach all without ever seeing his face. It was the way I could feel him looking through me without ever actually seeing him. It was the way the sound of his voice rose the hair on the back of my neck and arms. It was the way that something inside of me just knew the same way I knew two plus two was four.

I could attribute it to my dormant religious roots, say that they every now and then they rear their ugly head and get the best of me. I could say it was a coping mechanism for something I couldn't quite process but I whole heatedly believe that whether someone is a believer or not they would know true evil the way an ex-task force, atheist team member did. Standing there in Africa, a warehouse full of two hundred and six severed body parts from boys all under thirteen. The man responsible just laughing as he sat in the middle of the room watching us storm in as if he didn't have a care in the world. That day Timothy believed in evil.

The sound of his whispers pull me from the memory I had tried so hard to forget. He isn't talking to me and I doubt he is talking to anyone considering how soft his voice is.

Subtly I wiggle my feet which brushes something around, it's not thick or weighted but there is something and a lot of it. Pushing my head back against the thing behind me I come to the realization it's a wooden beam.

Like a freight train the realization of where I am hits me.

I think I preferred not knowing.

* * *

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_**Bo's Pov**_

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_**Unknown—6:42 p.m.**_

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I yell at the top of my lungs as I pound the steering wheel with my palms.

All I keep thinking is twenty-four hours, you didn't need to be a cop to know the odds of finding someone after twenty-four hours dropped by fifty percent and the odds of finding them alive dropped by eighty-to be generous.

Without letting go of the wheel completely I wipe the moisture off of my hands on the sides of my jeans. With every passing minute my heart seems to speed up a bit more and somewhere in between that I can't help the way my palms keep getting clammy.

Taking a right turn instead of a left this time I leave a so called main street turning onto one of those creepy ones, one the had curves and turns with only a few lights rather than a million. I should have been back at the station doing-well something. Truth was all that was left to do now was pray and think and since I don't pray I'm thinking. Something about driving just relaxes me-normally.

I know she isn't fragile, she isn't some glass, show doll. Hell she could probably take me down if she wanted to but now that's all I can picture her ass. I guess picturing her as someone fragile and in need of saving was better than the alternative.

Twenty-four hours.

Shaking my head at the thought I glance back down at the clock. Why I kept checking, kept torturing myself to watch nearly every minute passing I don't know.

Twenty-four hours.

Images of her peacefully laying asleep in bed beginning to cloud my mind. Images of her face as I drove her toward ecstasy. Images of her smiling and laughing at me—at anything. Images of the genuine genteelness in her eyes. Images of her geeking-out which were this unusual mixture of adorable and sexy. Images of the first day we met.

Twenty-four hours.

Sweet images turn to those of her with tears running down her cheeks. Images of fear and heartbreak in her eyes. Images of her divine features twisted in pain.

Twenty-four hours.

My mind begins to indulge it's fear. Images from my memory of her fused with those of old cases or maybe horror movies. Her face beaten and bruised in one. Her face covered in blood in a another. Horrific image after horrific image.

I glace over at this old wooden sign that's unreadable but for some reason it catches my eye-then it doesn't. Looking back out onto the dark empty road I clear my throat and blink back building tears. Another horrific image coming to mind, one of her dangling from a rafter like her brother.

If I could just focus then maybe I could-I don't know.

Honestly I don't know what I could do at this point, I don't really know what anyone could do. We haven't been able to catch him as he takes child after child, why we would be able to find him now is-.

"Son of a bitch!" I find myself yelling as I jerk the steering wheel so hard to the left the car does it's intended one-eighty, the back half skidding off of the pavement into the muddy shrubbery.

Reaching into my pocket pulling my phone out and pressing redial all without taking my eyes off the road. A sputter and jerk coming from the rear before all four tires end up back on the pavement.

"Hale listen, Old Canter Lane. I'm minutes away."

_**(We're near there why? What? You think he took her there?)**_

"I'd bet anything on it."

_**(Bo, it's impossible it's closed off. Officers are supposed to be there still.)**_

"I just drove passed, there is nothing. No car, no tape, it's hidden as it was to begin with."

_**(That doesn't make-and the-can-me?)**_

"Hale you're cutting out. I'm about to turn in I'm going to lose you."

_**(Bo. Wait for backup) **_

This sort of call-waiting type of beep happens as I'm jerked so hard that the phone flies out of my hand onto the passenger side floor. My eyes glancing at the 'NO SIGNAL' written across the screen as I have no choice but the slow the car.

* * *

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_**Lauren's Pov**_

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_**Inside The Barn—7:12 p.m.**_

"Get up!" his yell startles my drifting mind. "Get up!" Never has he sounded more like Christian Bale's version of batman but the traces of humor to be found in this are completely lost now.

Somethings wrong.

"I said get up!" the words aren't even fully out of his mouth when he backhands me sending me doubled over to the ground once again, mouthful of blood.

He grabs a hold of my restrained wrists and pulls them above my head as he starts dragging me across the floor, my feet kicking wildly at the flood trying desperately to stop. It's maybe only ten feet, maybe fifteen before he drops me. Images of Lachlan's body flooding my mind, the realization of the exact place I'm at now, where I had been sitting for God knows how long.

"What's happening? Just tell me and maybe we-" a jolt of pain shocking my system as his heavy foot lands on my stomach.

"Silence! You have been judged there is nothing else to talk about." he removes his foot and if I could breathe I would have tried to run—or at least sit up. "You should be happy whore," I hear a thud and then his hands are on my chest. "You'll be home soon."

He moves atop of me, his left hand holding mine down against my stomach as he leans up, the fabric of his shirt brushing across my face. When I feel his weight settle back down fully on my lower half he is trying to get something over my head. I struggle-I struggle so hard I nearly knock myself unconscious but he gets it over my head and around my neck. He fiddles with it for a moment until it's nearly behind my neck-if I'm still alive when he drops me my neck won't snap.

A new wave of fear coming over me. Every fact I know about hanging deaths, how long they take and how much pain they can be when the neck doesn't snap right away.

"It's not-it's not Wednesday!" Words blurting out as I struggle underneath him, his left hand forcing mine above my head as his right rips open my first shirt. "It's not Wednesday!" I repeat-it can't be can it? Have I been here that long?

"Whores, lairs, murders-it doesn't matter," he laughs as he shifts, my feet kicking at the ground but it's pointless now. "There's no forgiveness for your kind, it doesn't matter what day I clean the world of your vileness."

"God, please." I can't help but to cry out as I feel the cold tip of a blade rest on my skin just above the hem of my pants that he's pulled as low down as my hips will allow. "Please, please, please." the sobs leaving my lips faster than I can think them as I squeeze my eyes as tightly as possible.

"Deaf ears to the children of Satan." his words lost on me drowned out by my own pleas to someone I swore I wouldn't turn to.

My cries turning to muffled screams as I lock my jaw, the feeling of the blade cutting through my skin. Slowly dragging it up to my belly button, the worst part knowing that this was far from over. Memories of Lachlan's body a permanent pictures on the back of my eyelids since he started. He's going to cut several times, he doesn't know what he's doing as much as I initially thought-not that, that matters now.

"Lauren!" My eyes fly open to darkness at the distant sound of her voice, but I know it's her's.

Hallucinations Lauren, that's all it is.

"Dammit!" he yells as he tosses the knife away, I can hear it hit the floor somewhere behind my head.

I want to scream out to her but I find myself silent and then my chance it gone, he's off of me already and pulling me up with a violent force he had yet to show. My body slamming so hard into the railing I was sure it broke, but the crack I hear more than likely is my own ribs.

His arms wrapping around my body as he hugs me from behind, lifting me up in the air. My feet kicking out the best I can trying to kick off of the ledge but I can't seem to find it.

* * *

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_**Bo's Pov**_

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_**Outside Of Barn—7:19 p.m.**_

"Lauren!"

What good yelling her name would do I'm not exactly sure but maybe if she could hear me then it would bring her comfort, maybe she would know I was here. I was sort of expecting a yell back maybe but there is nothing. It takes a conscious effort to make myself believe it's because she can't reply and not that it is already too late.

Every step closer to the barn feeling as if I'm walking through quicksand.

I want to run the last hundred and fifty feet but I can't, I can't throw caution to the wind and risk this turning to shit all because I didn't think. Large and quick steps as I near but none the less cautious. Looking everywhere I can see in the darkness, the sprinkles of a beginning snow and a frequent icy wind burning my skin but it's something I don't have the luxury of worrying about now.

I jump and spin around at the sound of a not so distant horn from one of those eighteen or sixteen wheel trucks. Taking several deep breaths I try to calm myself, more accurately my heart-rate. Eyes locking on my car up two hundred or so feet.

Where was my backup?

Turning back around I'm close enough now, I start the textbook, sort of sideways cautious-cop jog that makes most of us look like idiots but it doesn't matter, I can't waste anymore time.

Taking cover against the wall I edge up toward the half open door, light seeping out. Someone was here here that's for sure now hopefully it was her and hopefully she was still alive.

One deep breath taken and held before I turn the corner and take four quick steps in all in one motion.

I freeze.

I know I freeze because the world starts moving in slow motion. Lauren's body hanging exactly like Lachlan's had been, a black bag over her head but she isn't dead. Her legs are kicking out as if she is trying to swim through air. The image of a tall, dark figure running toward the back of the barn on the top level catching my eye. In a moment he'll be at the back stairs, I'd have a clean shoot to end this once and for all. But there is no way I can get him and save her. I don't even know if I can get up the ladder, to her and cut her free in time.

"Bo! Lauren!" the sound of Hale and Kenzi's over lapping yell jolts me back into reality.

He's on the second step and though I can't see his face-I have a clean shot. A head shot at that but it's only a second I have my gun pointed at him.

Glancing over to the ladder I feel my body want to run to it but I KNOW there isn't enough time for that. Raising my weapon I let out the breath I had been holding and fire. The first shot hits splintering the wood and the rope alike but it's still holding strong by several stray strands. The second shot does it though.

Her body falls to the ground with a hard thud, most likely she'll have a break but I don't care as long as she is breathing.

"Lauren?" running to her side, falling to my knees I nearly slide the last inches to her. "Lauren? Please be breathing. Please be breathing." dropping my gun I scoop her into my arms and lap, pulling the hood off of her. "Lauren? Lauren?" I shake her, tears running down my cheeks and landing on her blood stained face.

"Bo?" I look back at Hale and Kenzi through tear filled eyes, their outline all I can honestly make out.

"He-he went out there a minute ago. Y—you can still catch him." I struggle to get out, tears shamelessly running down my cheeks. I see him nod before running after the ghost of the man who did this.

"I—is she breathing?" Kenzi's broken whisper earning nothing from me but a whimper that escapes me as my body begins to shake, cries turning to sobs as I hold her tighter to my body. "Bo, is she breathing?"


End file.
